This is what beauty does to me...
Christmas has come and gone. I'm sitting here with my iPod listening to the soundtrack from "the Fellowship of the Ring"...unreal. It's like I'm swept away into an alternate reality...a world all its own. The theme song from The Shire pierces parts of my soul that only it can. The first viewing of the movie comes flooding back to me and all that it represents. Ironically, I was here in New Jersey on Christmas vacation when I basked in the light of the bigscreen on a Monday afternoon. I was with my brother and it was one of those rare occasions where you go into something expecting nothing and getting something so otherworldly you can't recover from the beauty you've consumed. This movie/soundtrack just tore open parts of my soul that were untouched for over 27 years of my life. The music is haunting and seducing. The landscapes, the themes, the plot, the battle, the simplicity, the friendships, the idyllic community of Hobbiton...the imagination, the wonder...these characteristics aroused areas of my heart pining in a dark corner of my insides for something larger than life.
The mystical arrangement of this album is breathing into my ears something life sustaining. I can feel sound turning into salve for the soul. It trickles into my ear canal and somehow cascades down into my insides...it creates bumps on my arms and tingles in my spine. I feel whole...centered...awakened.
I wish to always feel this strange stirring. I can't imagine growing numb to music's power. There are days when I'm so caught up in the rituals of routine that I become estranged to the arts. And as I ignore my heart, I get ignorant.
I long to walk through the woods all my days...to resist the temptation to walk the trodden path of popularity. I want to venture out, to allow the wanderlust of my heart to find it's satisfaction in making it's way through uncharted territory. I want to drift toward desire and to let my heart be my guide. I don't want to see footprints. I want the virgin land to call out the explorer and lead me on an expedition away from normalcy and toward mystery. I want to wonder what's around the bend. I want take the road less travelled by, and experience the difference the auther speaks of. I want to feel lost in the middle of life. I want that to drive me to seek the truth...no matter where it leads me.
I remember getting lost in the woods several years back and feeling the fear fill my chest. I didn't know North from South, East from West. I ran through the forest and fields not knowing if I was running toward or away from home. I came upon an old broken down barn in the middle of a brush infested clearing. It was getting dark and I remember considering whether to stay there for the night until morning. I was so close to clearing out a corner in the dilapitated shed and creating a nest out in nature. I was scared...it felt invigorating compared to the known means and ends of my everyday existance. I decided to keep running toward the sunset imagining that it would lead to somewhere I would recognize...some backroad, some discernable landmark. Minutes later, I happened upon a large pond with a paddle boat...civilization!! I walked around the pond and toward what appeared to be a tractor path. As I crested the hill, I saw buildings of what looked like a camp. It was. It lead to a road, that lead to the house I was trying to get back to. When I finally walked through the door and told the story of my adventure...I was saddened.
You can't make yourself get lost and feel the same adrenaline I felt...I has to happen to you. I wished for more of that feeling...even if it wasn't physical, only spiritual. I wanted to feel lost somewhere that required me to find my way to where I wanted to go. I didn't want to keep feeling like I was letting someone else think for me, talk for me and act for me. Sometimes it just feels like everything's handed to you on a golden platter these days. Where is the virgin ground yet to be claimed? Where are the lines of logics and the systems of thoughts that need to be questioned and regurgitated for reevaluation? Where are the free thinkers who wander off the path of least resistance toward the mysteries of the dark woods of wonder? This is what beckons me as I listen to this intoxicating score of music written by someone who isn't taking his cues from Mozart, but asking the question, "What music has yet to be written? What must I do to hear it in my heart and put it on paper for the whole world to experience?" Shoot me if wanting this kind of life is juvinile.
Beauty. This is what it does to me.
The mystical arrangement of this album is breathing into my ears something life sustaining. I can feel sound turning into salve for the soul. It trickles into my ear canal and somehow cascades down into my insides...it creates bumps on my arms and tingles in my spine. I feel whole...centered...awakened.
I wish to always feel this strange stirring. I can't imagine growing numb to music's power. There are days when I'm so caught up in the rituals of routine that I become estranged to the arts. And as I ignore my heart, I get ignorant.
I long to walk through the woods all my days...to resist the temptation to walk the trodden path of popularity. I want to venture out, to allow the wanderlust of my heart to find it's satisfaction in making it's way through uncharted territory. I want to drift toward desire and to let my heart be my guide. I don't want to see footprints. I want the virgin land to call out the explorer and lead me on an expedition away from normalcy and toward mystery. I want to wonder what's around the bend. I want take the road less travelled by, and experience the difference the auther speaks of. I want to feel lost in the middle of life. I want that to drive me to seek the truth...no matter where it leads me.
I remember getting lost in the woods several years back and feeling the fear fill my chest. I didn't know North from South, East from West. I ran through the forest and fields not knowing if I was running toward or away from home. I came upon an old broken down barn in the middle of a brush infested clearing. It was getting dark and I remember considering whether to stay there for the night until morning. I was so close to clearing out a corner in the dilapitated shed and creating a nest out in nature. I was scared...it felt invigorating compared to the known means and ends of my everyday existance. I decided to keep running toward the sunset imagining that it would lead to somewhere I would recognize...some backroad, some discernable landmark. Minutes later, I happened upon a large pond with a paddle boat...civilization!! I walked around the pond and toward what appeared to be a tractor path. As I crested the hill, I saw buildings of what looked like a camp. It was. It lead to a road, that lead to the house I was trying to get back to. When I finally walked through the door and told the story of my adventure...I was saddened.
You can't make yourself get lost and feel the same adrenaline I felt...I has to happen to you. I wished for more of that feeling...even if it wasn't physical, only spiritual. I wanted to feel lost somewhere that required me to find my way to where I wanted to go. I didn't want to keep feeling like I was letting someone else think for me, talk for me and act for me. Sometimes it just feels like everything's handed to you on a golden platter these days. Where is the virgin ground yet to be claimed? Where are the lines of logics and the systems of thoughts that need to be questioned and regurgitated for reevaluation? Where are the free thinkers who wander off the path of least resistance toward the mysteries of the dark woods of wonder? This is what beckons me as I listen to this intoxicating score of music written by someone who isn't taking his cues from Mozart, but asking the question, "What music has yet to be written? What must I do to hear it in my heart and put it on paper for the whole world to experience?" Shoot me if wanting this kind of life is juvinile.
Beauty. This is what it does to me.
Comments