photo courtesy of https://musescore.com/classicman/clairdelune
I’m guessing I’m not the only author who listens to music for inspiration, mood, or relaxation. I have eclectic musical tastes but draw the line at rap and hard rock. I’m not quite sure what R & B is but if it’s the American Idol contestants hitting five pitches before they seem to get on the note, it’s not for me. I’ve even written down easy-listening song titles to get my thoughts rolling.
Losing myself in what I hear opens up another part of my brain. I’ve stood at the window with a notepad, or sat at the keyboard with eyes closed and fingers tapping as I recorded anything that came to mind. This writing exercise can be an eye-opener that sparks the five senses.
The creek for a visual
Sage and lavender for scent
Pebbles for touch
Peppermint candy for taste
Music to absorb through sound.
At Carly Simon’s “Mockingbird,” I looked out my study window and the oak tree was filled with blackbirds.
Creedence Clearwater Revival took me back to life as a young woman. I had more of a flashback feeling of that time rather than specific memories.
The most real of all is outdoor music, not noise that runs through my veins. The wind, birdsong, and tinkling chimes for extra tone. Distant coos of pigeons, caws of peacocks and braying donkeys rise on the wind from southern neighbors.
Instrumental music weaves a mesmerizing spell that I visualize as circles, waves, ebb and flow of colorful rhythm. I particularly enjoy the crescendo and decrescendo of violins. And to me, the saxophone is the sexiest instrument. I flow into the air with the notes, dancing, floating, soaring, falling, jangling, up and down, long and short I go.
Random notes as I lost myself in the music:
Relax – flow – wash tears away – hold hands – softly passionate – hold back – heart turn to dust – walls between – another night – selfish heart – boy to man – more than a friend – strange collection of thoughts – trust to truth/truth to trust – tonight is just for us – sending you away breaks my heart.
Free and easy – country roads – I thought of a teen love and wondered after all these years, did I imagine he whispered “I love you?”
The soundtrack from Phantom of the Opera zaps me to the Orpheum Theater in Omaha where we moved seats from upper balcony to fourth row center aisle. My very pores pulse with sensation. The sensual rush is like the richest, softest truffle melting on the back of my tongue, touching the roof of my mouth, threatening to ooze through the seam of my closed lips. Passion lilts, rises, ever higher, explodes over the top with Christine’s High C.
And the soundtrack from Last of the Mohicans is not only romantic. Heart-thumping tension builds and the imagination soars. Something inside is spiraling upward, outward, round and round until it erupts.
Rhythm – move—thrumming muscles – I’m alive
Dark – feel the touch of another – smell, listen to the whisper
How did I get to be here, in this place and time?
More than my heart is beating
Melancholy – my perfect world happens in snippets of time
Why don’t I take the time to absorb the sensations? I want to weep.
This is romance after all!
I am a romantic
I am a writer
Thank you, Lord, for my love of music
Thank you, Lord, for my love of words.
Play on, my musical muse!
Losing myself in what I hear opens up another part of my brain. I’ve stood at the window with a notepad, or sat at the keyboard with eyes closed and fingers tapping as I recorded anything that came to mind. This writing exercise can be an eye-opener that sparks the five senses.
The creek for a visual
Sage and lavender for scent
Pebbles for touch
Peppermint candy for taste
Music to absorb through sound.
At Carly Simon’s “Mockingbird,” I looked out my study window and the oak tree was filled with blackbirds.
Creedence Clearwater Revival took me back to life as a young woman. I had more of a flashback feeling of that time rather than specific memories.
The most real of all is outdoor music, not noise that runs through my veins. The wind, birdsong, and tinkling chimes for extra tone. Distant coos of pigeons, caws of peacocks and braying donkeys rise on the wind from southern neighbors.
Instrumental music weaves a mesmerizing spell that I visualize as circles, waves, ebb and flow of colorful rhythm. I particularly enjoy the crescendo and decrescendo of violins. And to me, the saxophone is the sexiest instrument. I flow into the air with the notes, dancing, floating, soaring, falling, jangling, up and down, long and short I go.
Random notes as I lost myself in the music:
Relax – flow – wash tears away – hold hands – softly passionate – hold back – heart turn to dust – walls between – another night – selfish heart – boy to man – more than a friend – strange collection of thoughts – trust to truth/truth to trust – tonight is just for us – sending you away breaks my heart.
Free and easy – country roads – I thought of a teen love and wondered after all these years, did I imagine he whispered “I love you?”
The soundtrack from Phantom of the Opera zaps me to the Orpheum Theater in Omaha where we moved seats from upper balcony to fourth row center aisle. My very pores pulse with sensation. The sensual rush is like the richest, softest truffle melting on the back of my tongue, touching the roof of my mouth, threatening to ooze through the seam of my closed lips. Passion lilts, rises, ever higher, explodes over the top with Christine’s High C.
And the soundtrack from Last of the Mohicans is not only romantic. Heart-thumping tension builds and the imagination soars. Something inside is spiraling upward, outward, round and round until it erupts.
Rhythm – move—thrumming muscles – I’m alive
Dark – feel the touch of another – smell, listen to the whisper
How did I get to be here, in this place and time?
More than my heart is beating
Melancholy – my perfect world happens in snippets of time
Why don’t I take the time to absorb the sensations? I want to weep.
This is romance after all!
I am a romantic
I am a writer
Thank you, Lord, for my love of music
Thank you, Lord, for my love of words.
Play on, my musical muse!
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