“Tempo, Dynamics, Interpretation”
Day 36, #2026bigyearproject
When I cannot speak, I let my cello offer my message.
If emotion overwhelms my heart, I translate the feelings into music.
Throughout my waking hours, I listen to favorite songs, dance as I do chores, add spice to a long car ride with peppy tunes, and create a soundtrack for my life.
A playlist of soothing melodies gives me peace so that I may get the rest my body craves. How many dreams were launched as my subconscious mind heard carefully chosen pieces?
Our one-bedroom apartment had an upright piano in a dedicated spot near the dining table. My dad taught me how to read music around the time schoolteachers showed me how to decipher the adventures of Dick, Jane, Sally, and Spot. A cello has been my companion since I was eleven years old.
Silence is a rare state. If I am not listening to my phone’s audio library, I may be humming, or sitting at the piano, or drawing a bow across my cello’s strings, or howling the lyrics to a boisterous anthem.
I rocked my infant to sleep as I shared lullabies in a low alto. We made up our own songs to greet each day. I had a short ditty for burps. She swayed to a made-up verse that our family learned to sing.
In the hospital room as we waited for my dad’s soul to rise out of his failing body, several of us joined our voices to croon soothing hymns.
Daddy wrote a song when I was born. Mama, my siblings, and I performed for his funeral services.
A friend described her process for composing. She can see notes hanging in the air, asking to be captured on staff paper. Isn’t that a marvelous image?
This body that I holds my spirit resonates to rhythmic, poignant, haunting vibrations. I accept that I am susceptible to the influence of melodic phrases. I seek the intention behind a movie’s background music.
I hear messages through intricately crafted compositions. I believe they provide guidance, reassurance, insights, and reminders.
They keep me in tune.
#2026bigyearproject
