Catch the mist, catch the myth

I recently helped my mom pack up her house so she could move into a smaller home in a warmer climate. The entire time we packed, music played on the radio. That’s how it should be. That’s what my life there was - filled with music. Always music.

When I was little, my parents' music played. A little older, and it was my sister’s music on the stereo. Soon enough, I had control of the radio dial when I arrived home from school. And something amazing happened. A four-man band from England lit up the charts with the layered harmonies of a very different type of tune: “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Is it cheap to say the rest was history?

“Bohemian Rhapsody” is the first song I clearly remember listening to and being transported -- not to another place or to a memory, but more…being transported within myself. I’d hear that song and I’d find a quiet, still space within myself. A place from which all things were possible. A place I could go to sketch, to paint…to create. And so it began.

From Queen in the afternoons of junior high, to the relaxed environment of the art studio in high school… First person into the room for art class got to choose the music. There was a true variety of albums (yes, vinyl) to choose from. One particular piece (I blush painfully to admit it was disco) I still know all the words to (“Romeo and Juliet” by Alec R. Constadinos). Scary, huh? But the song that transported me to the creative space? Crosby, Stills, and Nash, “Cathedral”. If I were to pull that tune up on Spotify right now… well, that would be the end of this blog. I’d need to grab my sketch book and let my pencil drift across the page.

Senior year. Art was still a big part of my life; I would go on to start college as an art major. But writing was moving into a place of importance. Writing happened in the cafeteria/auditorium during free periods with friends. When I close my eyes now and remember, we’re gathered around a wood-patterned folding table, and Rush’s “Tom Sawyer” is on the radio. We’re laughing and planning story, swapping pages.

Those very pages I recently put in the mail to my lifelong best friend. We attended junior college together, where we took classes in creative writing and mystery fiction and turned it up loud for Adam Ant, Elvis Costello, Peter Gabriel, Joe Jackson, Tears for Fears -

OMG that list can go on and on. The stories kept coming (Thomas Dolby and Nik Kershaw -- so much Nik Kershaw -- and Ice House) and the pattern was set. Music and stories. Rhythms and words.

Now, with all those years behind me, I’m proud to say I don’t write any stories with disco playing in the background. But I pull from all the years, past and present. I’ll cue up some Pink Floyd, some New Order, more Queen (always Queen), U2, Pearl Jam… fill in the blanks all the way up to One Republic, Florence and the Machine, and Pink.

In my house, like the house I grew up in, there is always music.  And there is always a song to take me away, into myself, into the creative space where all things are possible.

Seek your space. And create.


~Jen


(note: I listened to "Cathedral" four times while adding links for this post.)