I believe I am starting to get a hang of blogging! It's still early on in my class but I am really enjoying it and remembering to blog is sometimes difficult but I'm starting to get it 😊
"Yundum Nko” by Jali Nyama Suso is, to start, absolutely gorgeous. This music is soft and soothing and just the sort I love to listen to. The rythem is organized and the singer is husky as well as measured. When I can't sleep at night and everything around me seems to be keeping me awake I listen to some music on my phone. When music can calm me and help me to sleep it makes me hold that music in high regard because I am a very anxious person. This song is one of the songs I would listen to on a sleepless night. It is not loud and busy and not too quiet like a simple piano piece or acoustic guitar.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Monday, September 14, 2015
I'll Be Staring at the Moon but I'll Be Seeing You
I am still new to this blogging thing so bear with me, folks!
My music history starts with my absolute love of music from birth. Whenever my mother or grandmother would sing to me there would be a smile on my chubby little face. They would sing I love you a bustle and a peck and a hug around the neck and I will be seeing you in all the old familiar places. As I grew I would beg my big brother to play guitar for me, listen to music on my Walkman far past bedtime. I fell in love with Frank Sinatra and my grandmother was proud. There was no genre that was my favorite because I loved rock and country and rap and punk and jazz. I even dabbled in metal and scream-o.
I always tried to play music myself and it always eluded me. I tried the flute in 4th grade and it only lasted about three weeks before I was told my by teacher that I just wasn't a musical person. I tried guitar and even with my fingers scabbed and bloody after picking for hours in front of a guitar book and a YouTube tutorial I couldn't play a thing. This could have deterred me from loving music but instead this made me appreciate and love it even more. People made magic with their instruments. I could not play instruments myself, and so people who could became like gods to me. I would watch videos of people playing the harmonica, the guitar, the piano, and I would be mesmerized because I couldn't believe the beautiful sounds created by these people.
When my grandmother, the same one that sang to me as a baby, was dying she only wanted to hear I'll Be Seeing You by my friend Frank Sinatra. You see, Grammy was suffering from Alzheimer's and couldn't remember my Poppy unless that song was playing. Music was the last bit of memory she had left. Even when she was laying in bed, her lips dry, her breaths shallow, with Sinatra playing she was okay because Poppy was with her when that song was on.
Seeing my Grammy remember because of music made me fall in love with it in a whole new way. I saw it not only as magic but as a healer. If my Gram, who was dying, could feel peace in her last days, last moments, because of a song, there had to be some healing in that music. After she stopped breathing, we didn't turn that song off for a while. I walked outside to take in what was happening and around the moon was a giant silver ring. It felt like she was telling me that she was okay. It was like she had been playing that song on repeat all week not only to remember Poppy but to remind me once she was gone that I would be okay. I stared at that moon with Frank singing in my head "I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be seeing you." Now, I can't look at the moon without seeing my Grammy's sweet face, her big puff of white hair and her crystal blue unseeing eyes. I can't look at the moon without hearing music. Without Frank's voice coming to my mind. And I am thankful for that.
Frank Sinatra- I'll Be Seeing You
My music history starts with my absolute love of music from birth. Whenever my mother or grandmother would sing to me there would be a smile on my chubby little face. They would sing I love you a bustle and a peck and a hug around the neck and I will be seeing you in all the old familiar places. As I grew I would beg my big brother to play guitar for me, listen to music on my Walkman far past bedtime. I fell in love with Frank Sinatra and my grandmother was proud. There was no genre that was my favorite because I loved rock and country and rap and punk and jazz. I even dabbled in metal and scream-o.
I always tried to play music myself and it always eluded me. I tried the flute in 4th grade and it only lasted about three weeks before I was told my by teacher that I just wasn't a musical person. I tried guitar and even with my fingers scabbed and bloody after picking for hours in front of a guitar book and a YouTube tutorial I couldn't play a thing. This could have deterred me from loving music but instead this made me appreciate and love it even more. People made magic with their instruments. I could not play instruments myself, and so people who could became like gods to me. I would watch videos of people playing the harmonica, the guitar, the piano, and I would be mesmerized because I couldn't believe the beautiful sounds created by these people.
When my grandmother, the same one that sang to me as a baby, was dying she only wanted to hear I'll Be Seeing You by my friend Frank Sinatra. You see, Grammy was suffering from Alzheimer's and couldn't remember my Poppy unless that song was playing. Music was the last bit of memory she had left. Even when she was laying in bed, her lips dry, her breaths shallow, with Sinatra playing she was okay because Poppy was with her when that song was on.
Seeing my Grammy remember because of music made me fall in love with it in a whole new way. I saw it not only as magic but as a healer. If my Gram, who was dying, could feel peace in her last days, last moments, because of a song, there had to be some healing in that music. After she stopped breathing, we didn't turn that song off for a while. I walked outside to take in what was happening and around the moon was a giant silver ring. It felt like she was telling me that she was okay. It was like she had been playing that song on repeat all week not only to remember Poppy but to remind me once she was gone that I would be okay. I stared at that moon with Frank singing in my head "I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be seeing you." Now, I can't look at the moon without seeing my Grammy's sweet face, her big puff of white hair and her crystal blue unseeing eyes. I can't look at the moon without hearing music. Without Frank's voice coming to my mind. And I am thankful for that.
Frank Sinatra- I'll Be Seeing You
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Test Blog
This is my first blog for my Music Cultures of the World class. I am super psyched to be in this class and to be able to explore the world through music. Music has always been something that gets me through the day. Music soothes me to sleep at night. Calms my nerves. But I have never really gotten to know music on any level other than that, a listener. I never questioned and now not only can I but I have to! I can't wait to get started and see what this semester brings. There is so much I want to learn and so many things I haven't even imagined yet that I know I will learn!
I will see you this Sunday!
I will see you this Sunday!
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