I don’t just hear music when listening to a composition. I see it. I feel it. Stories are conjured in my mind as I listen to the notes attacking the air and it has always been this way. I don’t just hear music, I fall into it, and I live it. Every note is a cell of my body, and when combined together it creates a life of music. The
music is my body, my emotion. It's what I constantly live and will never be able to live without.
I feel the deep, pulsing beat of the bass plunge to a new low as the music starts to whirl around me, creating heaviness in my chest. The feeling is haunting and makes me uncomfortable as I lay on the floor listening to the Pianist play Chopin’s Etude Op. 10 #12. The rolling of the C minor chord along with the confusion created by the flying musical notes sticks out in my mind as an image
attacks the back of my eyelids.
At first random nothings seem to consume my mind, only to form gradually into a scene of two silhouettes with visible mouths moving to voice different arguments; the smaller, more feminine one, breaking free into a shouting match with the other. The music continues and I begin to feel as if I am being torn apart. My heart aches for the smaller mouth knowing how anger and frustration feel as they build up inside. Yet I long to hold the other silhouette in my arms and cradle him to my chest to stop the pain. Tears collect in my throat when I cannot grasp his hand in my own.
The tension and friction of the notes pull at my sides until I am completely disconnected shattered into billions of pieces. It doesn’t hurt this separation of body; it just doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel safe or correct.
Notes collide throughout the arpeggios, and the distance between the unknown people seems to grow until there is a canyon between them, sucking every breath they
possess into its dark red tint. The cold floor seems foreign to me and my skin begins to tingle as the lack of blood flowing to my legs begins to set in. Wine colored air dances as if tormented by the silent word harshly spouting from the two bodies. Compromise in this battle doesn’t exist. Only the differences and frustrations reflect through their hushed lips.
The throbbing of rushing blood lies hidden in my temple, and a rage rarely felt flares within my flesh, causing me to cringe. The feeling is not welcomed. Contained in my body, I can feel the anger
flying from side to side.
Suddenly it is quiet but the music continues; the angry words cease to attack the cage of my ribs.Growing lighter, the music begins to come together in more recognizable scales and the “battle” begins to die down. My blood ceases to burn, my head ceases to throb, and a new serenity takes over.
Green earth consumes the chasm between the two people as they slowly become more than silhouettes with lips
voicing opinions. They begin to morph into something more, something holier than their previous faceless selves of raging anger until their bodies seem to be illuminated. The illumination is warm and begins to heal my frozen body. Small streaks of light radiate from their pupils as the C minor chord shifts into a more secure major chord, leaving the two lonely people in each others arms. It feels
right. I feel at peace now.
The heaviness begins to fade as the chord resonates
throughout my body. All discomfort gone, I await for the new story to appear in my head. I anticipate the calm atmosphere of my mind as the silence lingers, drawing in the sound of the stable notes produced by the piano. I feel whole again.