This evening I sat listening to my Father play his old acoustic guitar. It has been ages since I have heard him play. There is something about the guitar that just draws me out of any place I may be and forces me to sit down and listen, blissed right out. It is the closest thing to a siren's song I can think of. It does something to my soul, I cannot even begin to describe.
I found myself relaxing as he hit semi-tones and developed the base for a melody, swept me back to younger years listening, harmonizing to, and most likely dancing to my Father composing in front of one of our many pianos. How I wish now that I had been quick enough to record him playing back then. His musical genius and skill is so filled with beauty and technical ability.
My passion for art and music really does come from him. It feels neat to carry on the creative torch. Both my sister and I carry it actually. If I wasn't so in love with Graphic Design, I may have just pushed to become a theater or musical professional. But I am more than content to have my moments of inspiration combined with my creative drive to work with words and notes on a personal level.
I generally don't share any of my personal compositions or songs. And if I do, I generally leave it to the composition, and don't mention anything. I have sharing-shyness syndrome... I count myself fortunate that I can not only appreciate music but can also play and sing. It makes it even more special knowing that I can join the rest of my family in this as well.
Live music, especially someone playing music right in my home, out in nature, or aboard a boat. I am missing those days.
As I am currently working on an analytical report for my Technical English course, I am studying a newsletter from the society that I crossed the Pacific ocean with. It brings back so many beautiful and excellent memories that I hold so close to my heart. I am very blessed to say that I have experienced this kind of travel. Many will never have that unique memory that I have. I would not trade it for anything in the world.
Now it is late, and I have lost my train of thought...Ah well.
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