Music therapy… or something

I’m hooked up to my headphones, plugged in to my iMac. We went for some burgers for dinner tonight and on the way home a song from Metallica come on the radio. I cranked up the volume, and my 9-year old protested. It inspired me to dig out our Black Album Metallica CD and listen to the whole album. I have everything from Metallica to Enya in my CD collection, so I tune into whatever music fits my mood.

I remember my first experience with Metallica. I was heavily into disco/dance/alternative music at the time. I tagged along with my parents to one of their card playing nights. The hosts’ kid was enamoured with the band, and insisted on sharing. It was their debut album, and I thought it was just so much noise-the stuff made me nauseous. Hmmm. It would only be much later when I finally came to appreciate the genre, and understood the need that it fulfilled. It was the musical equivalent of Van Gogh.

Metallica was among my favorite commuting bands, right up there with Offspring, Incubus, Staind. If I’m going to be pissed I might as well rock out. I don’t have much of a commute anymore. In fact, I can brag that it takes me all of 7 minutes to get from door to parking structure. I think it’s karma… retribution for all of the damned commuting I’ve done over the last couple of decades. But… I’ve been feeling so tired lately that some head banging might be in order. Surprised? Well… I’m old, but I’m not *that* old.

I always thought that as I aged my taste in music would change. It has simply expanded to encompass almost all types of music, and I enjoy all of it equally. Thankfully, the expansion stopped short of country & western, which I still can’t seem to cultivate an appreciation for.

I’m having trouble creating art. I’ve got some attention deficit issues right now. I’m so focused during the day at the office that I’m fully out of gas when I get home. I’m working my ass off again–every time I think things are getting easier, I’m smacked back down… “no chick, you’re going to work hard for that bacon.” C’mon lotto!

My art comes from a source deep within me, and when I lose touch with that center, I can’t seem to create. It’s been a few months now, but that connection is barely there right now; I feel so depleted that I can’t seem to reestablish a link. I’m feeling wordy… words lead me back to where I need to go. Maybe that’s the tack I need to take.

This weekend proved productive. I finally cleaned my closet out, moved stuff around and *dusted*! Egads was there a ton of dust in the bedroom! I got rid of half the clothes in my closet (and a good chunk which have been in a big box for over a year, waiting to be sorted through). I relocated my family altar, happy that it is finally dust free and restored. Maybe that’s my starting point. The need to reexamine my relationship with my parents, and their relationships with each other and my sister, hovers like a dank cloud.

An old childhood friend called me tonight. A long-term relationship and two-kids later, she now finds herself alone, sharing custody of the children with her ex, who’s already shacked up with someone (he left the day before Christmas eve last year). Now at mid-life, she has to rebuild her life. How far we’ve come, and yet, are we where we thought we’d be? Did we really think about where we were going? Nahhhhhhh…


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