Milking Cows and the Voices of Gregorian Chants
Someone gave me a tambourine yesterday, and you asked, " What music inspired you today?
`well, I just listened to Fleetwood Mac playing "Gypsy," and it made me laugh to hear this song as I'm moving from place to place, a floater among anchors, a speck of dust swirling around granite.
I love, love, jazz, and blues, the way the music curls and drifts and changes aimlessly as a squirrel in the road, yet made perfect sense like life itself. T Monk, Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, and then there are the blues. Earthy, playful, sad, and flirty. Muddy Waters and Bessie Smith telling it like it is like no one else can. Then the poetry, stirring lyrics, harmony, that touch your soul or use words the way you wish you could. Van, the man, Morrison, Joni Mitchell or Crosby, Stills and Nash, Jim Croce. Then there are so many more the likes of Bob Marley, Edith Piaf, and obscure musicians like Robert Rich, who creates haunting ambient music that I love to listen to while I write.
My mind drifting like music back to your question.
I'm just touching the surface, but Fleetwood Mac's "Gypsy" is the song that resonated with me today.
Lately, I only listen to music on the car radio. Random college stations. Before the age of constant distractions, I remember I liked to listen to classical music while watching the sparrows fly from the roof of my neighbor's barn. Whooshing in cascades and circles like one being, with the music guiding their dance.
A woman DJ used to play Gregorian chant music in the wee morning hours, on one cold morning a woman listener called in and said she milked her cows to the music every morning. It calmed them, she claimed. I imagine it did.
Now, when I hear Baroque or Gregorian chant music, I think of those cows. In my mind, a dimly lit barn before daybreak, cows shifting on their feet, their nostrils puffing out air, milk hitting the bucket while the voices of Gregorian singers fill the air, ancient in the wide-eyed stillness.
~kao
`well, I just listened to Fleetwood Mac playing "Gypsy," and it made me laugh to hear this song as I'm moving from place to place, a floater among anchors, a speck of dust swirling around granite.
I love, love, jazz, and blues, the way the music curls and drifts and changes aimlessly as a squirrel in the road, yet made perfect sense like life itself. T Monk, Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, and then there are the blues. Earthy, playful, sad, and flirty. Muddy Waters and Bessie Smith telling it like it is like no one else can. Then the poetry, stirring lyrics, harmony, that touch your soul or use words the way you wish you could. Van, the man, Morrison, Joni Mitchell or Crosby, Stills and Nash, Jim Croce. Then there are so many more the likes of Bob Marley, Edith Piaf, and obscure musicians like Robert Rich, who creates haunting ambient music that I love to listen to while I write.
My mind drifting like music back to your question.
I'm just touching the surface, but Fleetwood Mac's "Gypsy" is the song that resonated with me today.
Lately, I only listen to music on the car radio. Random college stations. Before the age of constant distractions, I remember I liked to listen to classical music while watching the sparrows fly from the roof of my neighbor's barn. Whooshing in cascades and circles like one being, with the music guiding their dance.
A woman DJ used to play Gregorian chant music in the wee morning hours, on one cold morning a woman listener called in and said she milked her cows to the music every morning. It calmed them, she claimed. I imagine it did.
Now, when I hear Baroque or Gregorian chant music, I think of those cows. In my mind, a dimly lit barn before daybreak, cows shifting on their feet, their nostrils puffing out air, milk hitting the bucket while the voices of Gregorian singers fill the air, ancient in the wide-eyed stillness.
~kao
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