Words are amazing things. They can build you up, they can cut you down. They can express beauty, they can describe horror. They can be melodious, they can be blunt. The marvel of words is they may be pretty much whatever you want them to be.
Words cascade through my head like the chocolates whizzing by Lucy and Ethel on the assembly line. So many end up left in the dust on the floor. There just isn’t enough time to use them all. No one said I had to use them all, but I hate to waste them. Words are so expressive but one doesn’t visualize a writer creating a fabulous sentence and then breaking into a celebratory dance like some sports star. Watch some music videos and live vicariously through the expressions of the musicians as they experience their music. Come on, we all sang into the handle of the hairbrush as kids. It was fun!
When I write, I write. It often pours out in a huge rush and I’m exhausted when the words stop. And then I think, who even cares about my writing? Then I recall it shouldn’t matter who cares. I write for myself. I write because my life wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t. I write because I can.
I go through phases. For days at a time, I will listen to a specific type of music. I’m not musical in the sense of being able to create it but I very much enjoy listening to music. I don’t have a favorite genre, my tastes are eclectic. But there are times when only well-crafted music will satisfy. Those moments often coincide with my frustration with writing. When I can’t get the words to come out as intended. Hemingway famously equated writing with bleeding. Sometimes I just need to draw the blood.
Music isn’t just melody. It’s also the lyrics. In my mind, neither is more important. They’re equal. And when the words are tight and the rhythm is right, I can be brought to tears. And then the bleeding can commence.
An example of a song that has this power for me is Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” Now, the song has been vastly overused in films and covered by many artists. I like a few of the covers as well as Cohen’s own version. The beauty and play of his words is amazing. It may be enjoyed superficially and it may be enjoyed for the complexity of its depth, or layers of depth. Cohen’s writing is literary in quality and intellectual in its makeup.
My favorite covers of this song? For their fabulous harmony and diversity, Pentatonix can’t be beat. I’m such a sucker for a good tenor, or two. My preferred female cover is kd lang’s version. I’ve always enjoyed her ability to flat out sing. She doesn’t need to embellish her singing in any way. It’s strong and comes from the heart. Aside from Leonard’s version, another where the emotion is palpable is Rufus Wainwright’s version. Each of these creates tears for me in different ways. And that’s the beauty of it. These artists aren’t acting out a version of a song, they’re living it. Those emotions are coursing through their veins.
I know that feeling. I crave it.
Stories Are For Eternity 