Saturday, May 9, 2009


I've decided I need a soundtrack.

A score to reflect my life to build like storm clouds overhead when I am angry or turbulent, or lilt on melodic fainting couches when I am feeling romantic or blossomy or certain.

I need notes to follow me around to flood the streets to pill on my sweaters to melt on my tongue to declare my intentions or disguise my uncertainty.

Of all the things I've known in my life, this is the one thing I am most certain about. At the end of one's days, there should be music. And there should be notes that pull one out of bed in the morning and then whisper you to sleep in the evening or declare the moon's appearance.

Wouldn't it be nice if love and light were escorted by flocks of Clarinets and Flutes? And oh, to hear the shadowy things approach with their heavy footfalls on the bass line. I wonder if we would make fewer bad choices. Would we recognize love when it walked in? Would we change direction when things so obviously began to turn and darken? Or maybe we would learn to ignore our soundtrack and do whatever the hell we wanted to, Timpani Drums be damned. I like to think I would take my cue and exit rather than hang out and wait to find out how low those foreboding notes could go.

I would like to see things lined up and falling in and moving their way through an Opus that feels the way I am feeling, that tells my story and embellishes it with a flourish of strings.

Maybe I'm losing it or dreaming or breathing in too many anti-bacterial gel fumes. Maybe I've already learned to ignore the soundtrack playing.

Maybe it's time for me to learn to read music.

Tonight, it's the rain on the windows bringing the day to a close. Whispered percussion.

Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent.
-Victor Hugo (1802 - 1885)

Happy Mother's Day, if not to you then to your mother. May the morning be heralded with well intentioned children and the clinking of pans and pillows over your head as you try to stay asleep and wait for breakfast in bed. I'm pretty certain that will be my morning soundtrack.


Hannah said...

It is Mother's Day in Canada too, and I did indeed have a strange melange of foods brought to me in bed. Such a funny rite of passage, isn't it?

I love this post. I hear a continuous running narrative of words in my head but I've never stopped to consider adding a soundtrack; odd, as I can play several instruments and (before kids anyway) was pretty heavily into music in all forms.

I have a feeling this is one of those posts I'll be coming back to more than once.

sex scenes at starbucks said...

Happy Mom's Day.

I'm always the first one up by literally hours, so no breakfast in bed for me. That's okay though. :)

Woman in a Window said...

What an absolutely brilliant idea. I think I'd end up in a wrestling match with my score though, beating on black bendy parts that were suggesting here, when I want to go there. I like it though, i really like it.

And it reminds me of my daughter this morning so exasperated with me. I've been listening to the same cd alot. 14 songs. It's driving her crazy. And yet she doesn't see that when she listens to the same ONE song over and over again, it might make me nutters. Huh. Selective understanding.

Happy Mother's Day to you, too!

painted maypole said...

a score would be cool, but i've always dreamed of theme music - that every time I entered a room my theme music would play. I did a show once where another character had that and I was SO jealous!

Furrow said...

I hope you got that breakfast in bed. Not me. I had to get up and distract the child so husband could make us all pancakes, which suits me just fine.

I love the imagery in this post. I'm chuckling at the thought of one altering her steps to find a more pleasing tune. A musical version of "you're getting warmer." Also reminds me of Stranger than Fiction, which is one of my favorite recent films.

Mad said...

I used to feel this way. I am surprised now, though, by how much I crave silence above all else. Maybe I need to get John Cage to write my score.

Emily said...

Mad- Ah yes. Ala 4'33". That fits well into what I am thinking about soundtracks. I think maybe our background music already follows us around. We've just learned to tune it out. I think Mr. Cage's 4'33" was meant to encourage the audience to listen to their environment.

Furrow-You make me giggle.