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Music is ...

11 replies

One of the most important parts of my life.

Music is love and love is life.

I was born to musican parents. It was all about classical music in our house and well my dad was a huge 60’s and 70’s fan: Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd and ... So I grew up not only loving music, but cherishing it. It was mixed with my blood. I have a picture sitting at the piano when I was only 8-months old:
http://groups.msn.com/GuuZMuhahaha/kiddyme.msnw?action=ShowPhoto&PhotoID...

All through these years, through thick and thin, music has been my companion. When there was noone to share my sadness or happiness with, I shared it with my piano or CDs. I laughed with music, expanded my thoughts with it and cried with it. Music from Roxette to Beethoven, Queen to Mozart, Pink Floyd to Brahms to folk to... Music is food to my soul and I cannot live without it.

Again: Music is love and love is life.

can´t live without music.

and as Cher says... MUSIC´S NO GOOD WITHOUT YOU!

A pure art.

... MY LOVE! (I realy mean it!)

music knows no borders

Aaso: Then you should get a radio immediatly!

Music is ... a good thing for stress! ;)

Harrie, I prefer to get a computer first!! guess what I went shoping yesterday and there I heard Elton john... I took a sit and satyed there for an hour!!! I think I will go there today ;P

To me, music is food for the soul. It strengthens our spirit as human beings.

hiya shane yes i quite agree

Cliché as it is, music is the soundtrack for our lives. It’s the backgroud track that’s playing as we live. Who can’t remember specific events in our lives when we first heard a song, or played a bit of music to balm our wounded hearts and souls? Hearing that can drag us back to that place, the emotions, the fun, the pain—good & bad.

My mother died just after C!!B!B! was released, and try as I might, I still cannot listen to “Go To Sleep” without conjuring the sadness of the loss, or at the very least, the ghostly picture of the person my mother was.

Every six to ten months I gather up a new CD of the music I like. Listening to some from a few years ago reminds me of who I was, how I’ve changed, in taste, in the rhythm of my living, what was moving me with lyric, with beat, with both sometimes.

I’ve been toying with the idea of trying to paint a self-portrait with the songs that best describe me, dark and light, whimsical or serious, all the roughs and smooths. The idea being, if someone else would listen to it, they’d be able to glean an emotional image from the aural and construct a personality profile from it. (Hokey, probably. And that’s perhaps why I keep it as an idea. If I was diagnosed with something fatal, I think I’d do that, to leave behind as a record of me. Whatever. . .)

But then, everything we listen to helps to define us to ourselves, and to others.

That’s enough of this philosophical bullshit for now—apologies to those who stuck through to the end. I’ll try not to let it happen again. ;)

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