Playing the Drums
Playing the
drums feels like a main line to the soul,
A
formidable antidote, an awesome purging of all angst.
The quest to consume
the silence with crashing waves of vibration.
So I commenced to beat out confusion,
rage, forgiveness on tin
Redemption, validation came with every knock, on those skins
Tapping,
pounding rolling, resounding
Drilling, banging, clashing clanging,
Seeking no record, accolade nor audience
Just
a passenger of rhythmic teleportation
Pianoforte for the Everyday
So it
was finally my turn at the piano keys. What was left of this inalienable gift so foolishly ignored?
A series of
once familiar scales and a handful of tunes I'd retained from youth. Sheet
music has never interested me, even though I can read & locate the
notes.
Then, I picked up a few lessons from
a gifted artist, my somebody special..
I chose to
exercise my musical muscle memory, masquerading as a forgotten talent through
spontaneous expression.
When the
left hand chords and the right hand melodies intersect with precision, The infinite elegance of freedom and tranquility ascend.
Music has an astonishing kind of energy
Instruments hold a specific type of power.
The creative pulse yields incredible moments that hallmark generations.
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