Stars To Music
Once, a boy grew up with stars in his eyes. Thanks in part to a love of books, and science, and the fact his mom collected Green Stamps, which allowed him one day to own his own telescope, the stars stayed with him - and moon craters, and vivid blue and yellow double stars, and galaxies, and the constellations. To this day, he looks up and sees the shapes, never a mass of gems burning bright, but lions and hunters and mythical creatures, and the Big Dipper.
Once, a girl grew up with music. Thanks to her mother and father, sisters and brother, her house echoed with Big Band and brass, flutes and piano music, and the loveliest instrument of all - the human voice. Classical music recitals, weekly watchings of Lawrence Welk, and movies like the Sound of Music and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and a hundred others - these became a ground from which the flower of her voice sprang. And to this day, she sings.
Once, the boy who saw the universe through his telescope met the girl who saw the universe through her music, and something magical happened.
Each began to see things differently. He found the beauty of sounds, and rhythms and the diversity of both, breathtaking. She began to see the same shapes in the sky he did each night. Their experiences - like some cosmic events, and like music does - merged and melded, and became a new singularity.
They fell in love over music blasted from a riverboat, saw shooting stars on road trips, sang together with the sun roof open, and everywhere they went heard the same obscure song, inexplicably, on car radios or at bars or with friends - Vincent - with the words “starry, starry night” creating so much more than Van Gogh’s story, as told by a folk singer.
And, to this day, it’s a story of stars and song and art that defines the boy, and the girl. A story of dreams. A story of a cosmos where, out beyond this solar system, a golden record aboard a golden craft, a voyaging craft, moves through interstellar space at a speed we cannot imagine. Its grooves carved with two hours of content, an hour and a half of it simply music, from all over the world. An hour and a half. Three fourths of humanity’s calling card devoted to music, which will be preserved for billions of years.
Music. In the sky. Together. Defining us forever.
#Essay #NanoMemoir #Hope
Wrote this, then told it at our arts center’s monthly storytelling night. Didn’t tell it well. But hey, I told it. Baring my soul.