A couple years ago I showed you this incredibly heavy box of music that was sitting in the middle of my kitchen. It represented over a decade of choral music collected by one of our church accompanists. In the same way as I hoard books, she hoards music, and for the same reason – it speaks to her.
She needed to downsize and was returning a portion of her collection. While I sorted through the six hundred-or-so octavos and several music books, I couldn’t ignore other similarities.
Notes build phrases of melody that blend into harmony, creating music that sings in my heart.
Letters become words and sentences, and grow into stories that beguile my imagination.
Both transport me to a new place. The creativity required to produce the best form of both is art, and originates somewhere deep within. When it is well done, it impacts those who listen… and read.
The creativity represented by all this music staggers me. Each song is unique and represents hours, days, months or maybe even years of the composer’s time. More significant is the piece of its creator’s soul that is embedded in the reality of each.
Composing words and music are both forms of writing, totally different, and yet so very much the same.
If you are a writer, do you find your creativity spills over into other forms of art?
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Graphics by digitalart
One thought on “From the Archives: The Music of Words”
Most definitely. In the spaces in our home, the clothes I pick, the flower arrangements. Even the way I sort my clothes hanging in my closet. They’re a rainbow of colours.