Musical landscapes

MUSICAL LANDSCAPES

Oh what a gift is music. It is but a simple thing, these sounds we call music.

Music is color.  It paints pictures in my mind, sweeping vistas and tragic landscapes, rolling hills of green.  Tender dewdrops on a petal soft rose, the rush of a thousand rivers to the silent sparkle of newly fallen snow.

Lush, electric and alive. Intoxicating,  liberating and primal.  It is emotion. Raw and simple, plain and beautiful.

Music wraps itself in fond memory and instantly transports me back in time. Music can stimulate. It forces yet gently prods to emotional highs and bittersweet lows.

Music is powerful. It is bold and commanding yet subtle with soft whispers and gentle kisses promising the foreverness of love and the joy of life. It is uplifting. It is strong, brave and true.

It is a necessity and my life would be hollow without it.

Strawberryindigo.

What landscapes do these songs create in your mind?

Vivaldi‘s “Storm”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N00XKtROddc&feature=related

The Venture’sSleepwalk”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZHBg6Y3vyc

Pink Floyd’sOne of these days”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gewiBN5kdls

Beethoven’s  “Moonlight Sonata”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nT7_IZPHHb0

Led Zeppelin‘s “The Rain Song”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4v-_p5dU34

An open letter to all the sensitive artist types

  

  Hello there. I am one of you and we are legion.  Our lot is a deep one, a gutsy one for sure. We are a strange group with a yearning desire to be our unique selves in this plastic preconceived prefabricated world.  It is we who come up with the ideas that others consume.

I know most of us are compelled to do this, this whatever we do that we deem art. And this compulsion runs deep, at least for me. For so many years I deprived myself of artistic endeavors, never making the time for it… thinking it frivolous, unnecessary…calling it a stupid dream and retreating back into the doldrums.

The voice never dies completely…this need to create, to share oneself. That voice grew from a whisper to a scream. I had to listen. The floodgates opened and they haven’t closed yet.  It’s a compulsion, a need like air to breathe.  Creative people know what I mean by this.  Sometimes I think living the life of someone a bit more “typical” would be simpler and easier. Less painful perhaps? At times the thought is tempting but in the end I wouldn’t want to live without this colorfully crazy creative streak.

Endless forms most beautiful

Art comes in endless forms.  I see it in everyday life from the musician and the writer to the carpenter, computer programmer, physicist, or cook. It is the soul of the person creating it that makes it beautiful. In my mind the only requirement for art to be art is that it contains a tiny drop of essence of the artist. If it’s honest and true that is what’s important. It is the stuff of daydreams and the inner workings of the soul that makes it memorable and remarkable.

Good art entertains, it amuses. It is whimsical and fun.

Great art makes you feel. Sometimes quite deeply and your life is forever changed by it.

The Starry Night, June 1889, The Museum of Mod...

Image via Wikipedia

Starry Starry Night

A few years back I had the pleasure of seeing live and in color several major works by some of my favorite Impressionists, including the great Vincent Van Gogh.  It was the brushstrokes that did it. I could see the mind of the master at work…the one who takes command of the brush and creates a universe with it.  There is a force to the artist.  The gutsy part.  Vincent had it all right, we artists need that;  the show off….the ham. The part that is compelled to share that which we have created.  Even shy ones like me have that side… but there is also the other side; the sensitive one.   Vincent had that in spades. He poured out his heart onto the canvas with wild abandon.  I believe that creativity lies in that deep soulful side. I have that side…the indigo to my strawberry. It was that side that started to cry in the middle of the exhibit. I welled up and couldn’t stop. I couldn’t even see the art at that point but the images from that day will forever be etched in my memory.

What I am trying to say

This piece is entitled: An open letter to all sensitive artist types and it is. However,  I do have one certain artist in mind when I write this and to that person I say…..

It is the artists that stick their neck out. It takes courage to put your work in front of others. Your heart is on a plate for others to dissect and chew up. Humans are natural judges and it’s a hard dose to swallow when you are on the receiving end of a disinterested audience.  What is the purpose of art if it is not shared?  And appreciated.

It takes courage to pursue a dream and awfully thick skin.  Unfortunately most of us artistic types are sensitive and all the courage in the world doesn’t stop hurt feelings.  Some people are jerks and will knock anyone down who dares to dream. But don’t stop. Don’t ever stop dreaming. Because once in a while dreams do come true.  Don’t let a few sour grapes spoil a fantastic bottle of wine.

But don’t just listen to me:

A work of art is the unique result of a unique temperament.  Its beauty comes from the fact that the author is what he is.  It has nothing to do with the fact that the other people want what they want.  Indeed, the moment an artist takes notice of what other people want, and tries to supply the demand, he ceases to be an artist….”

**Oscar Wilde**

Have a wildly creative day

Strawberryindigo.

 

My little part of the sky

My little part of the sky

A lifetime is made up of moments and there are only so many.  Within these seemingly endless stream of moments, there are special ones.  Ones that force us to make a snap decisions, Ones that define us.  These are the moments that make us who we are.

I have many such moments stored up in my 41 years of memory.  It surprises me how many of them were small things, moments that on the surface appeared insignificant.  In circumspect I can see how one thing leads to another…and another… and another…

My fault lies not with one decision per se, but my inability to make any decision at all.  I’ve been letting fate decide my whole life.

Sometimes life comes at you like a runaway train and forces your hand rather abruptly.  Other times, more often than not, fate sprouts silently.  It comes to you at night in a whisper that you can’t quite hear.  Every night it gets louder and louder,a little at first, but then…

It gets louder and loUDER AND LOUDER.!

UNTILL IT IS SCREAMING AT YOU!!!

Do you listen?

I have decided to listen. To that voice screaming at me to do something.  This  thing I must do takes courage.

I must come out of the shadows. come out into the light and share my little part of the sky.