Without Music Life Would Be A Mistake --Nietzche

I've been thinking a lot about music lately -- its endless variety and its effect on this species we're all part of. Isn't it amazing to think about how many types of music and how many songs exist, yet for the most part, they're all different, like human faces, existing in seemingly endless varieties.

Sometimes, knowing a person's musical taste can tell you a lot about that person, but in my case, I love it all. My ipod shuffles from Green Day to Bob Marley to Hazel Dickens. My musical tastes remind me of Millie's comment in Bull Durham about Nuke LaLoosh: "Well, he f**ks like he pitches. Sorta all over the place."

Think of the ability of music to move us to laughter, tears, joy, sorrow. Within the first few bars of a good song, your entire mood and frame of mind can shift. If you're tense, you might relax. If you're sad, you might find yourself smiling. Does anything else so easily affect our emotions? Music may be man's most sublime invention. As Victor Hugo observed, "Music expresses that which can not be said and on which it is impossible to be silent."

Come On to My House

So once again, I’ve found the man of my dreams. Only, he’s not real. Typical. The main character of the first part of The Princes of Ireland is a prince (surprising, I know) who wants to be a druid, and not a prince. He is drawn to the solitary, introspective life of philosophy and poetry and is described as quiet, deep, and thoughtful. He meets my requirements of fun, funny, smart, and serious. Now if he could just look like Henry Cavill in The Tudors and come on to my house, life would be perfect.

“…since his early childhood, when he had sat alone by the lakes or watched the red sun go down, he had been overcome by a sense of inner communion, a feeling that the gods had reserved him for some special purpose. Sometimes it filled him with ineffable joy; at other times it seemed like a burden.” (p 57)

Barring some bizarre rabbit-hole experience leading this man to my house, I guess I’ll just have to settle for finishing the novel.

Fear From Insight

In the song, Do You Love Him, by The Avett Brothers, one of the lines refers to being able to tell the difference between fear and insight. It's a distinction I think some people may not even realize exists. I don't know that I could have named it, but as soon as I heard it, I knew someone had put words to a concept I struggle with in my own life. I like to believe I govern myself by insight, but I wonder if sometimes, insight becomes fear, and I begin to make decisions based on fear rather than insight. Or maybe fear is born of insight. Some experiences, and the knowledge resulting from those experiences, alter your perspective forever. After your life veers in directions unforeseen and unexpected, you can't ignore the insights you receive. I suppose the real answer is that there is no real reason to fear anything, since we often have little control over the directions our lives take. Ergo, fear is a complete waste of time.

On another note, I am still reading, just have been lazy about blogging. Since finishing Michelangelo and the Pope's Ceiling, I've read the following:

Death at La Fenice by Donna Leon

Watchmen by Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons

Careless in Red by Elizabeth George

Dark Fire by CJ Sansom

Right now I am reading The Princes of Ireland by Edward Rutherfurd. It's a well-written historical fiction saga set in ancient Ireland. Maybe soon I will find time to blog about some of these great books. I would recommend any of them.