Two Lullabyes; Or, Life Is What It Is
[Posted by reader_iam]
White coral bells
Upon a slender stalk:
Lilies of the Valley deck my garden walk.
Oh, don't you wish
That you could hear them ring?
That will happen only when the fairies sing.
You know, exposure to music--intensively and of a wide range--was imbued in me from the start, perhaps even in the very sperm and egg and amniotic fluid from which I was sprung and hatched and nurtured. It is, very much, what it is.
Well, as an extension of that, there never was any part of life, being raised up, from start until off-on-your-own (and beyond that, but that's irrelevant to this post), when we weren't audiences of perpetual concerts: the preparations, the actual, the debrief. Life = music. The fluid in which all day-to-day life swam.
So it was never necessary to have separate sessions and markers of music in our lives, at the end of day or before naps or whenever. And my parents weren't vocal musicians. Still, my mom made a point of singing to me, very early on, at odd, precious times, a very specific small handful of songs, two of which have always meant a tremendous lot to me. I just shared those particular two.
This one is in honor of my mother (though it's extremely likely she'll never see it, because she doesn't know I blog and would hate it if she did).
And, by the way? Can I just say that I'm very ... a lot-of-stuff ... about what appears will likely be her fate, in terms of the end-game (and that the "better" alternative ain't so great)? It's gonna be a long week.
Anyway. Enough.
Added: Decades ago, my mom and I watched, many times, the film from which the clips in that YouTube video came. A shared love: the movie, the director, the score; the genre, the scores, and etc. We also loved Doris Day's girl-singer-with-big-band days, which--well, those who care will know the chronology; those who don't--why bore them?
White coral bells
Upon a slender stalk:
Lilies of the Valley deck my garden walk.
Oh, don't you wish
That you could hear them ring?
That will happen only when the fairies sing.
You know, exposure to music--intensively and of a wide range--was imbued in me from the start, perhaps even in the very sperm and egg and amniotic fluid from which I was sprung and hatched and nurtured. It is, very much, what it is.
Well, as an extension of that, there never was any part of life, being raised up, from start until off-on-your-own (and beyond that, but that's irrelevant to this post), when we weren't audiences of perpetual concerts: the preparations, the actual, the debrief. Life = music. The fluid in which all day-to-day life swam.
So it was never necessary to have separate sessions and markers of music in our lives, at the end of day or before naps or whenever. And my parents weren't vocal musicians. Still, my mom made a point of singing to me, very early on, at odd, precious times, a very specific small handful of songs, two of which have always meant a tremendous lot to me. I just shared those particular two.
This one is in honor of my mother (though it's extremely likely she'll never see it, because she doesn't know I blog and would hate it if she did).
And, by the way? Can I just say that I'm very ... a lot-of-stuff ... about what appears will likely be her fate, in terms of the end-game (and that the "better" alternative ain't so great)? It's gonna be a long week.
Anyway. Enough.
Added: Decades ago, my mom and I watched, many times, the film from which the clips in that YouTube video came. A shared love: the movie, the director, the score; the genre, the scores, and etc. We also loved Doris Day's girl-singer-with-big-band days, which--well, those who care will know the chronology; those who don't--why bore them?
Labels: Life Is Short, Life Sure Can Be Weird, Life's Complicated, My Bad, My Mother, Off-Blog Life, So It Goes, What Then Must We Do?
