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prodigal harmony

"So special does the Exemplary Creator (E.C.) feel that she appears willing to enter into special arrangements- a Faustian bargain- to maintain the flow that comes from effective, innovative work. For E.C., this bargain involves masochism and unbecoming behavior to ward others, and, on occasion, the feeling of a direct pact with God. E.C. works nearly all the time, making tremendous demands on herself and on others, constantly raising the ante."

~ Creating Minds: An Anatomy of Creativity Seen Through the Lives of Freud, Einstein, Picasso, Stravinsky, Eliot, Graham and Gandhi, Howard Gardner<

I have arrived at the juncture of development where my talent is no longer a question of quality, as much of a demand for quantity. For now, I feel it is incumbent upon me to produce, and to do so prodigiously. The quest for volume is of the utmost importance, for my skill has reached a high-pitched plateau.

At the high point of his stand-up comedy career, Eddie Murphy made fun of The King's similar mastery over music, when in his routine Mr. Murphy joked that Elvis could sing practically anything, converting the most prosaic object into a song (i.e. "Lemonade, the cool and refreshing drink.")

This is where I am with my writing. Give me a word, a situation, a sensation, and I too can make it lyrical.

give me a word

Give me a word
and I will make beauty,
for it is my solemn duty,
obligation, my pact and
intractable passion
to fashion and forge
epic and poetic work.

Give me a word,
and I will wile and will
my self to build
the world's greatest
one-man writer's guild,
whose membership
is strictly restricted to me.

For I am afflicted you see
by this grand delusion,
the conclusion of which proclaims
that if you
give me a word,
i will in vane wrought you
a poem.

So, give me a word
and I will steal for you
the crown jewels of life,
presenting them with
a monosyllabic turn
that discerns this
elusive mystery of
our bitter strife.

Give me a word,
just one word.
a word:

Perhaps, it is akin to what you can do with music—"here, heal this person," enlighten, levitate, gravitate, bond—delight, entertain, sooth, amuse, imitate—the nightingale's song. Granted, we have long known that music soothes the savage beast and can teach the world to sing in perfect harmony, but seemingly it is the how that is missing, a formula of which has all but been intuitively composed until now.

Being the musical idiot that I am and considering the aforementioned powers of man-made euphony, I contend that music in it's objective form cannot only be notated as a pitch in time, but also by its psychosomatic rhythmic and rapturous effect upon the human psyche.

Maybe, some day the science of musicology may present an exact repertoire for evoking certain moods, changing attitudes, or controlling emotion. Marketers and their Muzak certainly have already long tapped into the psycho-magic that bewitches us to consume.

Imagine the power of Mozart once we have determined what neurological effect the central movement of Eine kleine Nachtmusik sparks, transitioning new synapses into the electric swell of warm emotion, and thus triggering a consoling sentiment of comfort and bliss that might begin to undo years of trauma—pain that is intertwined with the potential for pleasant short-term memories, dissonance which can be unraveled with euphony. Or how about soothing sounds of Pierné's Sonata da Camera? Handel's Messiah? Or anything by Bach, Haydn, or Telemann? What power do these classic pieces wield?

A spirit once said to me in an elusive dream "I don't know where my life would be without music... but i have a feeling I'd be quite, quite mad (or madder, at least)." I feel the same way (do you hear the echoes of this proclamation resonate in your own soul?)

Music, like the word, is a powerful tool and a mysterious elixir. Merely fools who are not wise surmise that it is solely entertaining.

"Music is the verse of the soul, and melody the quiver of a sweet breeze on a heartstring. It's a fairy's magical fingertips fluttering over a sentimental doorway, opening to reveal hidden memories from the depths of the past.

It is the quivering of a chord, penetrating your ears through the waves of ether, only to exit in the form of an ardent teardrop leaving its languorous trace of a long lost love or the painful bite of destiny. Maybe these notes could exit through your lips as they widen with joyful smile of fulfillment. Music is a body composed of weary sighs, the breath of souls and the spirit of hearts…. "

~ Khalil Gibran

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