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Looking back at the history of my life, I can see that the one thing that means the most to me besides my family and friends is music. I fell in love with music when I was a little boy, and I have always been passionate about listening to and playing music. I started to play the piano, violin, guitar, and drums when I was in elementary school and I never stopped playing them after that. Besides playing instruments, I loved to sing as well. Music is not just a way to relax or entertain myself; through music, I’m able to tell my stories, express my emotions, and influence others. Playing music for my family and friends is my daily activity, and I also enjoy playing music for strangers in local cafe shops, but I never had the chance to play music for a big audience. This had always been my dream until last summer.
It was three days before the big ceremony of celebrating the anniversary of my father’s company. My father
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It was a full house with guests from all over the country. To surprise the guests, I was blending into the audience’s section; none of them knew I was going to be a part of the performance. Five minutes before my show, I was called backstage to get ready. To my surprise, my father was there waiting for me. He said, “Music has been something you are always passionate about. Years of practice has made you a great musician.” He looked me in the eye and said, “I believe in your talent. Now it’s time to show the world what you’ve really got.” His words stimulated me. With firm steps, I walked on to the stage. I was facing twenty thousand people, but I did not feel nervous anymore. All I needed to do was bring my best music to these people and, most importantly, to enjoy myself. Thus, under the spotlight, I expressed my emotions through the music and influenced everybody in the stadium. Time seemed to freeze at the moment when all the guests stood up and hailed me for my performance. It was the best moment of my
On Tuesday, October 17, 2017, I attended a musical concert. This was the first time I had ever been to a concert and did not play. The concert was not what I expected. I assumed I was going to a symphony that featured a soloist clarinet; however, upon arrival I quickly realized that my previous assumptions were false. My experience was sort of a rollercoaster. One minute I was down and almost asleep; next I was laughing; then I was up and intrigued.
For all my life, I have been surrounded by music. Not this new, overly processed, tempestuous pile of talentless noise people pass off as music these days, but instead actual music played on actual instruments by people with actual talent. I can recall all the way back to my very first memories, all of which are filled with band practices, concerts, and many things music related, and every single one I was enamored of and each had a great effect on me and my liking for music. When I was young, I, myself, did not play a musical instrument of any kind; however, my parents did. Even though I couldn't play any kind of music, I was still around people who could, and I enjoyed being able to listen to them.
They gave me a chance I never thought I would have. Vickie knowing my music capabilities believed in me and gave me a chance to learn how to play the organ. Not only that but Father and Vickie, provided me with a space to practice and be at peace with my music. They provided me with books, an organ, a piano, and teaching to become the best I could be. Vickie saw my talents not as hard work, but as a gift.
Music has absolutely been an enormous part of my life and who I am. However,
After another couple of hours, I have realized that this was a milestone in my life. The melodic tune of music had made a dramatic crescendo in my life. Now, as a senior, my passion for music continues to grow as I compete in contests and sing on stage. The journey of music all started when I was just a baby.
Music is something everybody uses to help express his or her feelings. Whether it's dancing, smiling or crying, just listen to something that makes them feel a way; or since not everyone listens to something that makes them feel a certain way. When I was younger I didn't really think much about music, I just thought it was one of those things in the background. I didn’t give it much thought. Growing up I didn't have my own favorite type of genre or favorite type of music.
As a young child I became enamored with singing and performing. Whether it was music videos on T.V of the singing and dancing pop stars; the static-full reception of funky R&B and hip-hop on the radio; or the boisterous melody of voices from a swaying and clapping church choir. Singing became a routine part of my life from an early age. Despite this, singing was something I did only for fun. My best musical memories are ones of my cousin and I.
My connection to music begins when I was a kid. Like a lot of children, singing was one of the things I enjoyed the most. I found myself singing along to Queen’s greatest hits when I was five years old. I could barely name all the months of the year in English, had no idea what Freddie Mercury was singing about, but I didn’t care. With my butchered English words, I accompanied Freddie anytime I was in my father’s car.
When Music first entered my life, I was very young. Long car rides were no bore for me. I was always chilling in the back seat of our 8 passenger mini van listening to the best of Stevie Ray Vaughan, Deep Purple, or Alice Cooper. Head bopping was never an embarrassment and neither was singing right along to the best of Super tramp. My love for music has brought me through the tough times in life, it has celebrated with me at birthdays, it has cried with me at funerals and been in suspense with me as I awaited lectures and grades.
Music has always played an important role in my life. During my early childhood I was always exposed to different genres of music. My family had a very diverse pallet. Bluegrass and country from my grandparents, classical and pop from my mom, 80’s and punk rock from my dad. Needless to say, we’re lovers of music.
The room glowed with the audience’s faces staring straight at me, I was the center of the world for that extremely short time and the only thought going through the audience’s minds was what my music would sound like. After the eternal walk over to the center of the room, I sat down on the bench and wiped my hands on my pants, the nervousness was chilling up my spine, paralyzing my body for what seemed like an eternity. The only roadblock keeping the silence was my reluctance to start, I pushed myself to start, but, nevertheless, could not. Notwithstanding the thought that moved through my brain that one millimeter of accuracy could mean the difference in the audience’s opinion of the song, I raised my hands and played. This is just one of the examples of how music can provide a vivid gift basket of emotions, the only action you take is walking over and opening it
My passion for music was encouraged by my mother, but she was immersed in her own loss that she could hardly function. I lost months of memory, and some of my siblings joked and teased me because I live in my heart, not my head, but my oldest brother understood. He understood how much I loved my dad, and that dad had always seen me as being the “sensitive one,” My brother continued to nurture the creative piece of my heart that loved music so very much. To bring me out of the shell I had crawled into, he would take me for walks in the woods, telling me stories and got me to sing with him the whole way. He shared with me the music he loved and helped me find comfort once again in what always had made me shine.
As we all waited in line to go into the concert there was a thrill of excitement in the air. I was standing there with two of my friends. when we saw a few other people we knew. " Hey, come over here!" I bellowed.
My mom has always told me that deep, deep inside me, buried by layers of my heart there was a love for music, burning bright like the heart of a fire. A fire that could never be vanquished, yearning with hunger for the time it could come out, struggling. It came out when I was five, when I started playing piano. Music really was like an instinct to me, a second nature. A talent that had always been there, but was just waiting to come out.
Then audience members who were perfect strangers who were screaming loudest would turn to each other with knowing glances and smile because they were sharing the same excitement and connecting with one another over their love of this man’s music. There was no pushing or shoving to get closer to the stage – it wasn’t that kind of crowd. Instead, there was mutual respect for one another’s space within the confines of the too-small venue. Nobody wanted to be the person who ruined it for someone else. It was this respect that made the audience members’ connections with one another that much stronger – we were all here to listen to this wonderful man’s music and see his performance – and, of course, we were here to enjoy it.