Music, for me, is a living, breathing entity that never leaves my body, even if I could ever want it to. My mother is a concert pianist and music history professor at a local university, and I was raised with music the way most people are raised with food. I could read music as soon as I could read English, and I started playing piano and learning music theory around 5 or 6 years old. I devoured all of the music my parents listened to, every classical composer you can think of, Simon and Garfunkel, musicals of all kinds, folk music from various countries, gospel music, hymns, spirituals, nursery rhymes, Jewish prayers at Synagogue. I was a sponge. I just absorbed it all, took it into my being, even if I had no possible way of knowing what any of it meant.
I attended many concerts at the music department at my mom's school. My mom's favorite story to tell people (and mine, too) is from when I was about 4 years old. My mom's colleague was conducting the university orchestra playing Rimsky-Korsakov's
Scheherezade. This happened to be my favorite classical piece of all time, and was proud to be able to pronounce its name. When it begins, there is a triumphant start and then a pregnant pause before it continues more softly. During this pause, I pulled on my mom's arm and said, loudly, "That's Scheherezade!" I was so proud. The conductor, my mom's friend, turned around and said, "If there will be no further interruptions, we will begin again." My mom took me outside for the rest of the concert, but I didn't care because I could still hear the music, and I reveled in the sweet tones of my favorite piece of music. I didn't know I'd done anything wrong. All I knew was they were playing my song. What a beautiful moment.
I joined band in elementary school. I wanted to play drums or trumpet, but my parents thought drums were too loud and my mother swore she'd never let her children be brass players (it's a musician insider snobbery; brass players are "known" to be pompous and arrogant), so I chose flute, and moved on to piccolo in high school. I was a member of a world reknowned children's choir and then the junior version of the well-reknowned adult choir in a neighboring city, and in those choirs I learned pretty much every sacred choral work ever written, pieces by Benjamin Britten and Aaron Copland. I sang with chamber ensembles and full orchestras. I was even in a production of Puccini's opera
Turandot when I was about 11, because of the choir's connection with the city's opera company. I can't even put into words how amazing the experience was, and I'm not even sure I fully appreciated how special and unique it really was back then. I wish that I could go back and feel the impact of that experience with the understanding of its importance that I know now.
In high school, I started voice lessons and learned opera arias, wrote piano compositions and won awards at competitions. I performed in musicals at the local community theater, as well as at my high school. I was in marching band, concert band, jazz band. I was set to major in vocal performance in college, and auditioned at several before giving up the dream when I was rejected from all of them. I had been having problems with my singing, which my mother and I attribute to my voice teacher's unusual and controversial teaching methods. I was disheartened and probably more than that, in retrospect, but too involved in teenage drama to notice how much that would affect me.
My second love has always been literature, as you may have guessed to find me here. I sucked up books the way I sucked up music, and I usually finish books within a few days, 2 weeks tops, anymore than that and I'm either too busy or disinterested and I give up and try something else. Music has always played a part in reading, too, because as a poetry major and a linguistics nut, I find music in language so for me the love of reading and the love of music go hand in hand.
Music can make or break me. Music clings to people. I once hated Jimi Hendrix solely because my closest friend in 8th grade and future (now former) boyfriend wanted to take drugs to experiment like him. Now I can't listen to Nirvana without thinking of him, because when we started dating in high school, I fell in love with Nirvana, Hendrix, The Doors, etc. as well as with him. When I find music I like, I don't just listen, I fall in love. I am known to listen to the same song over and over, loving it more and more each time. Music can trigger depression episodes for me, but it can also bring me out of one, depending on what it is. I sing showtunes anywhere, anytime, and I know some really old, obscure songs that my dad's parents would have listened to. Right now I'm listening to "Make 'em Laugh" from
Singin' in the Rain, and as I imagine Donald O'Connor jump around and make faces, I'm in love with it all over again.
I guess what I'm saying is that music isn't just a part of me, it
is me. I'm never without a song in my head, and I don't think a day has gone by since I learned how to sing that I don't sing at least some part of a song. Music oozes through me, and I infect other people with my musical germs. My boyfriend always hated musicals before, now he can sing some of them with me. It's not that I forced him or he listened against his will, it's just that my enthusiasm showed him a side of music he'd never considered looking at. I do love to make others feel what I feel when I listen to something. That is true joy.
Music is my soulmate, music is my soul, music is me. I love music.