Criticize harshly.
My mind is void. The living room carpet is comfortable as I lie there, overtaken. One of my plastic headphones is rubbing painfully against my ear, but the bass in this song makes me forget the pain. No room for a thought exists as the guitar strums to my heartbeat, or as the drummer quickens his rhythm. I smile. I don't have to try for enjoyment in these moments of bliss. Ever since I can remember, I've been addicted to sound.
I am moved by music. When I was young, I would sit in the back of my mom's minivan, tears streaming down my face as the stereo played the local Christian radio station. I was pressed to tears by songs, whose lyrics I didn't even understand, because of the strong emotions they conveyed. Music gives me the chance to experience a range of emotion whenever I choose. The power of music over my mind is incredible, and I'm able to use songs as tools in my life. I can run faster, work harder, and feel my emotions on a deeper level, all because I feel what the artist is feeling.
What's the best part about musicophilia? Sound is everywhere! Even in a room without music, I sing my own songs; listen to the sounds around me. I harmonize with the radio, my theater friends, and even my vacuum cleaner. The intro to The Lion King has been exhilarating since I first heard it at age three and gospel choir music has long been one of my not-so-guilty pleasures. Because of my desire to create music, I've gained skills in piano, guitar, and vocal performance. There is power in leading a church worship service. There is significance in performing in front of hundreds. It's electrifying.
Not only do I make music, I make my life musical. The diatomic elements are best memorized in song, and the quadratic formula exists in my mind to the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel". If I don't feel like saying something, I'll sing it. When friends or even strangers ask me to serenade them, I rarely decline, and I'm not afraid to ask the same of others. I write songs. I sing everywhere. I am free.
Driving back home to Gladstone one night, our cross country team is playing "Would You Rather... ". Nicole looks at me. "Would you rather be blind...or be deaf?" After thinking through the practical pros and cons, I realize that I could never choose deafness. The idea of eternal silence is so unimaginable that I can think of no worse fate. Without the rustle of leaves, the jingle of change, or the sound of a choir, who would I be? I would not be myself. Without music, my source and outlet of energy and emotion, I would be incomplete. Music shapes me, makes me fearless, and I will continue to listen to the sounds around me, because I am what I hear.
My mind is void. The living room carpet is comfortable as I lie there, overtaken. One of my plastic headphones is rubbing painfully against my ear, but the bass in this song makes me forget the pain. No room for a thought exists as the guitar strums to my heartbeat, or as the drummer quickens his rhythm. I smile. I don't have to try for enjoyment in these moments of bliss. Ever since I can remember, I've been addicted to sound.
I am moved by music. When I was young, I would sit in the back of my mom's minivan, tears streaming down my face as the stereo played the local Christian radio station. I was pressed to tears by songs, whose lyrics I didn't even understand, because of the strong emotions they conveyed. Music gives me the chance to experience a range of emotion whenever I choose. The power of music over my mind is incredible, and I'm able to use songs as tools in my life. I can run faster, work harder, and feel my emotions on a deeper level, all because I feel what the artist is feeling.
What's the best part about musicophilia? Sound is everywhere! Even in a room without music, I sing my own songs; listen to the sounds around me. I harmonize with the radio, my theater friends, and even my vacuum cleaner. The intro to The Lion King has been exhilarating since I first heard it at age three and gospel choir music has long been one of my not-so-guilty pleasures. Because of my desire to create music, I've gained skills in piano, guitar, and vocal performance. There is power in leading a church worship service. There is significance in performing in front of hundreds. It's electrifying.
Not only do I make music, I make my life musical. The diatomic elements are best memorized in song, and the quadratic formula exists in my mind to the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel". If I don't feel like saying something, I'll sing it. When friends or even strangers ask me to serenade them, I rarely decline, and I'm not afraid to ask the same of others. I write songs. I sing everywhere. I am free.
Driving back home to Gladstone one night, our cross country team is playing "Would You Rather... ". Nicole looks at me. "Would you rather be blind...or be deaf?" After thinking through the practical pros and cons, I realize that I could never choose deafness. The idea of eternal silence is so unimaginable that I can think of no worse fate. Without the rustle of leaves, the jingle of change, or the sound of a choir, who would I be? I would not be myself. Without music, my source and outlet of energy and emotion, I would be incomplete. Music shapes me, makes me fearless, and I will continue to listen to the sounds around me, because I am what I hear.