Art (Mostly Music, but Extendable)

So, I was completely planning on using the holidays as an excuse not to write anything, but just listening to some Interpol got me thinking about music--how chords can capture emotions and progressions can mirror so closely their evolution. Then I realized, they don't mirror them at all, they are themselves emotions, passing moments of happiness and sadness, pressure and relief, dissonance and consonance.

It's easy to see how real and human singing is. No two voices are the same, every creak, crackle, or whistle directly from the soul. The music breathes in and out with the individual. But the same is true even with an instrument. Take the guitar--every stroke is a moment in time strung together by the ulterior motive of the soul. Take the sax, every blow a an outpouring of something deep from inside. In some ways, using a instrument is even more intimate than singing.

To take hold of a vessel, something essentially lifeless, and become one with it to express yourself is no easy feat, but when you do, the result is nothing short of a miracle. Suddenly, the instrument springs to life, it speaks, it cries, it sighs, it screams, it wails. You become a bigger version of yourself, and any observer, can feel in their skin that they're baring witness to an intimate moment, as a voyeur of sorts to your soul.

Think about it. You can let go of all your problems, scream your joys, wail your complaints, and unload all your burdens on this lifeless object in a kiss or gentle touch, and what comes out is an extension of your life, complex but universal, whether morose or cheerful, beautiful. But I believe this extends far beyond just music. In any art, writing, painting, or sculpting, we interact with essentially lifeless materials and express ourselves, and our works become an extension of ourselves, whether we want them to or not, whether we're telling someone else's story or our own. And when we truly embrace ourselves, our works become great.