The Power of Music
I first realized I was sensitive to colors was when I had the option of choosing them for my home. Until then I had gone through most of my life without being able to choose them. Then I bought my first home, by myself and suddenly the question loomed large. I never thought even for a second of choosing simply a black and white theme. There are certain colors I really like, I realized as I thought about it. Sunlight… that has a color. I suspect now that it does not but in high school when painting with crayons and colored pencils? It was always yellow. And if you’ve forgotten that… that’s a shame innit? Okay so the living room will be yellow, I said inside my own mind. Once decided, okay but what kind of yellow? School bus yellow? A young lemon yellow? Bright and bold yellow? The painter and I tried several times. I searched the internet for houses with rooms painted yellow. I had seen a room somewhere and it had stuck with me. The yellow that I had in mind was a mild yellow, a slight mix of white in it, almost an alabaster white but so thoroughly mixed it that it was yellow. Imagine describing that to a home painter…. he didn’t know so we tried multiple combinations. Finally…that’s it. Can you paint one entire wall and let’s see how it looks in a bigger area? That’s not soft enough I thought to myself…I wanted a slighted faded look. This was still a little too energetic. I told that to the painter and he rolled his eyes. I could see he was frustrated, didn’t want to redo it, even though I was willing to pay for his time. I decided to not pick the fight and said okay let’s do it. I faded, you could say. The room will energize me I said to myself. Why be a mellow yellow pal? And that was just the living room.
I guess that point was that colors do influence my psyche, my mood, my temperament - even my energy level, you could say my vibe. It wasn’t surprising to me when I read that colors do have exactly that effect on the brain. My home office was a very “rich” shade of green. Like a deep forest but safe and uplifting. The desk was cherrywood. It seemed to fit. Sometimes some things just click into place in the mind. I didn’t have a lot of arguments over it with the painter. By then he had written me off completely. It’s my first time I felt like telling him. I have never been allowed to choose what I want. It’s all been rented apartments man. With people saying: you can’t say that man, or you can’t do that man or you can’t write than man.
As I pondered colors one day while I was driving, I realized the radio was also influencing my mood. What the fuck am I listening to? All of these songs are truly sad and depressive. Admit it… when a new post arrives you first scroll down to see what YouTube links are present. Most of you anyway. You first form an opinion about what is going to be the essay about, better written in English as “what the essay is going to be about” and then read it. Admit it sarge. Admit it gunny. Stop harassing kids sarge and don’t get sarge major posthumously. It’s more fun to be alive or so I hear.
What the hell is this sad “Fire and Rain” shit… let’s hear some real music. I have been accused of likely a certain type of sound… you like plaintive songs man… songs with a lot of grief in them. Uh no, I don’t. They just seem to fit the occasion. I like uplifting music that fill me with positive energy. That sort of music is so rare that if I create a curated list I can’t hear more than 30 minutes of it. It sounds discordant beyond that. Like rare wine flattened into cheap wine. If you have never noticed what music you’re listening to and its effect on you: consider yourself lucky. Or unlucky. Or unexamined. It’s the difference between “American Pie” and “Bailando”. I mean both are songs. That’s about the only thing they have in common. And I don’t understand Spanish. What I do know is Bailando has nothing to do with bail or bailing water from a ship or an Irish drink called Bailey’s added to coffee. That’s all I got. Take care. Adios.
