So, what do YOU enjoy? Sporting activities, maybe? Basketball? Blogging, perhaps? Or maybe something which teeters on the brink of insanity? Blurring the line between socially acceptable behaviour and taboo? (Plucking out strands of curly hair FROM OTHER PEOPLE'S SCALPS. Cough.)
Well, to be frank, mine isn't all that...intriguing. (Timothy...really, hair? I'm sorry, but I find it a tad bit disturbing.) I enjoy...(DUN DUN DUN) playing the guitar. (And, as I type, it's resting on my lap.)
So, I realise that some may loathe music. (Well, certain genres might be more apt.) But, music is a sort of universal language. Since the dawn of time, man has conceived of various ways in which to immerse themselves in the (not always) pleasant auditory sensations, using some curious instruments.
Personally, I hate pop music with a passion, and avoid it like the plague. (Really, people. Britney Spears? I mean, there are some good ones, but those are few and far between. (And not on my playlist. Yay!) But I digress. Let me return to my tale of musical self-indulgence.
So, after a month of abstaining from playing the guitar during the holidays, (I was stuck in a musical rut. It's like a variation of writer's block, which I'm sure all of us have experienced while writing. Gah. It's horrid.) I finally took notice of the black, glossy surface of the guitar body, just standing out in contrast with my house's white walls, and it was calling out to me. "Play me, damn it! Remember the good old rockin' days?"
Subconsciously, I reached out and grabbed it. I felt the smooth wood of the neck, the sleek metal plating, and...I sneezed. God, but it was dusty! (Well, that was anticlimactic.) After a sneezing fit, I slid out a guitar plectrum (It looks like this:
A pick), plugged my guitar into my beaten-up, worn out amp (it's what you get for scrimping, really) and positioned it on my thigh. The motion felt completely natural, and the guitar rested snugly on my leg. Unsure where to start, I picked a string. My skills were kind of rusty (As if I had much in the beginning), so that felt really awkward. (Come on, you know what I'm talking about, right? It's like when you have a vacation and after your holiday, your handwriting's just flat-out terrible.) After some gradual and random hitting of notes, I got the hang of it. (Again, just like handwriting!) During that process, the sounds emitted made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, but thankfully, it was only a while before that feeling of familiarity washed over me.Moving on to my first actual piece that was remotely musical, I tried something classical: a song entitled "Romance". (Never heard of it? Youtube! The internet's a man's best friend) And yes, it is the stereotyped French-sounding corny music often used (and abused) in romance movies. (Ooh la la!)
Of course, I wasn't satisfied with that. It came off as cheesy. So I went for something more gritty: the (in)famous Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven". (See the play button on that "Mixpod"? Click it! Note: I am, by no means, a good musician. Also note that the song is infamous for its lyrics when played backwards.)
Cranking up the distortion, I went with the flow of notes, conjuring up in my head the accompanying beat, and pressing against the rusted strings, fret by fret, throwing in bends and vibratos, I basked in the soulfulness of it. It brought forth an exhilarating rush of sheer satisfaction. The feeling...imagine soaring on wings, through the clouds like a free bird, and looking down below...it was sheer rapture!
Playing the guitar, it has always been an outlet, to express the pent-up feelings, playing with all your heart and soul, going with the flow of your emotions...and playing it, I felt liberated. I was free.
"There are moments when one feels free from one’s own identification with human limitations and inadequacies. At such moments one imagines that one stands on some spot of a small planet, gazing in amazement at the cold yet profoundly moving beauty of the eternal, the unfathomable; life and death flow into one, and there is neither evolution nor destiny; only Being." - Albert Einstein
*Note: At no point in time was I ever under the influence of alcohol or drugs.
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