A repost from a 2009 facebook entry. Sometimes we write just to remind ourselves. This one is for all of us that need to remember why we do what we love.
i’m just remembering this morning how my family laughed at me when i sang them the first song i wrote. i was 10… i’m sure i had written songs before that, but never with the words written down and everything. i was so proud, i remember how i used to sit at the little yamaha keyboard in my bedroom and close my eyes – and with all the passion my soul could muster, I would randomly hit keys and make up melodies… and the tears would spring to my eyes from the burning in my chest… yes. i have always been that dramatic. Mama would say “well, you got it honest.” The title of that first piece so long ago was named, You Made my Brown Eyes Blue… I gathered my family to me and sat them down to receive my first gift in song. My hands hovered tentatively over the white, plastic keys and then i began to play… Heart and Soul. I start to lift my tender 10 year old voice to the heavens, and with the countryest of twangs began to sing about how my heart had been broken and my brown eyes were now turning blue because of the sadness. I had no way of being prepared for the snickers that erupted from my audience, and them saying, “oh, Sallie” and shaking their heads, my little heart crushing beneath the blow.. haha, well, maybe it was funny. a stolen piano line, stolen lyrics.. but the heart and passion was all mine. It’s just funny how sometimes the reaction you’re looking for isn’t what you get and certainly not what you were expecting. Certainly I expected swooning and tears, not from laughter, either… but it was laughter that met me none the less.
I’m just thinking this rainy, blue day about how glad I am that I didn’t allow an unexpected reaction to the initial bearing of my heart, to cause me to lay down music. It makes me live now.. I forget sometimes – how much I need music – I think the need for it was hardwired in me from conception. without it, i am an empty cold shell that doesn’t know she’s empty and cold, until the sound waves travel through the air and caress my face, my ears, my arms… and little tiny goose bumps are left where the melody danced across my skin and i realize I’m being filled. I need music and I think it needs me too… even if the best response i could get the first go around was a snicker from the crowd. … and i see my sweet little chloe sitting at the yamaha (a bit nicer than the one i played) tinkling on the white, plastic keys… and more than anything i want her to know that everything she does is beautiful and brilliant and I promise i won’t laugh at her when she writes her first song.
**Update: Chloe wrote her first song about a year ago – a piano tune. It is so beautiful. I am pretty sure i cried. It certainly puts my first efforts to shame! I’ll have to see if i can’t find someone to record it. 😉