If anything is going to save us from destruction, from total annihilation, or maybe just from ourselves, it won't be religion, it won't, for heavens sakes, be war. No, it will be neither of these. It will be music. "Praise the chord and hold the ammunition."
There have been innumerable studies done lately on the curative power of music. The one I particularly love is a study of the effect of dancing on people suffering from Parkinson's disease. In fact, one neurologist decided to break down the components of dancing to try and isolate which element might be the most effective. Was it the movement, the social interaction or the music? I'll vote for all three, with an emphasis on music.
Another study has shown that those suffering from dementia can bring back blocks of memory simply by listening to music.
Singing is a joyous activity. I have to believe that's why it's so much a part of religious services - "Nearer My God To Thee," comes to mind. A waltz always makes me want to dance. Even the saddest of songs has the power to connect us to the human experience.
I play a little piano, OK, it's a regular piano all 88 keys, but I don't play it as often, as I would like. I'm planning to take this to the next level soon.
I look for music wherever I can find it. I especially look for it in non-musical venues. I signed out a book from the library on Saturday. I would like to point out that it was -15C and I walked about a km to renew my library card. It begs the question, How can people transfer millions in funds through a network of banks and never have to leave home? However, I have to trudge through the ice and snow on a bitterly cold January day to have my library card renewed in person. It took the librarian a second to zap his trusty scanner and voila I was again a member of the faithful. There is no justice in this world - just ice!
The book I signed out was "That Old Country Music" by Kevin Barry. The reviews said that his writing was very lyrical. I wanted to hear the music in his prose.
I listen to a lot of old folk songs. There is a certain genuineness in the music and the lyrics. Sadly, so much of today's music is manufactured. As an aside, I remember telling a young woman, I had met, whose name was Mavis that there was a beautiful folk song that begins with the line, "I heard the Mavis singing his love song to the morn." She said that she didn't know it, but her parents who were old "folkies" not old "fogies" might know it. Here it is, whether your name is Mavis or not - Mary of Argyle.
Our writing word for our writing exchange is "music." This is my contribution.
I really must take more pictures that are musical.
Have a tuneful day.