because aren’t those all the same thing? [poem]

To know me you must know
what brings me joy.
To know me
you must know what makes my clock tick, what fuels my engine, what makes me happy.

Something that brings me the most joy is the power of
sound
and rhythm
and what they can be used for. Even that
pause, only shown by the breaking of paragraphs, can change the way the reader sees the text. The next break can change
the feeling of the words
so much
from how it would have been if
it were still
unbroken.

This is why I enjoy music so much–the flowing
rhythm and melody and meaning and feeling
and because it’s in everything we
everything we do, from our timed steps
like beats of drums down the sidewalk in which we
sing and dance and breathe and beat our hearts
because aren’t those all the same thing?

And because it lends us emotion
in a soup
that we hear rather than taste
that we drink up eagerly
that suits people of all types
and has been here,
has been here with us since forever ago, with us since we were a thing, since we were us—
did you know the earliest instrument discovered
is from tens
of thousands
of years ago? Did you know?
Did you know the bone that allows us to sing
formed over five hundred thirty
thousand
years ago? Did you know that? Did you know?

From our history it has been a part of us. And so we enjoy this thing
because
it holds smiles
and tears
and everything in between. Because
it feeds us,
most of all,
humanity.

Accompanied by plastic recorders from early years
and traditional hand drums from South Korea
and an electric guitar played
without an amp–
I jumped from piano first, then
to flute, then
to French horn out of all things,
exploring the soft and lilting and bold over the years
from little recitals
to school bands.
We had
performances in front of parents
and other students
and even to younger children from other schools
to show off our band
to those who would be joining our school
next year.

I held up my horn for the audience to see
to see and get as excited as I was
to see and share my joy
beginning with the novelty of an instrument
unavailable to those
in elementary school.
I wanted them to see
everything I saw–
the bursting glory of the horn,
and not just that
but the way instruments could be so versatile, playing nearly any genre
performing both modern and classical
playing both high and low.

Eventually,
with this knowledge,
I began to write my own
instrumental chamber pieces
and even some lyrical music
like bottles and bottles of thoughts in formats both abstract and diaristic.
Concert band instruments, such as flute and trombone;
then some more uncommon, like the pipe organ;
and
vocal parts, too.
I let go of shame, practicing using my voice
and instruments
together
in harmony.

A marvel to think that in just a few minutes
music begins to appear in front of me.
Writing on paper and computers
until what comes out is just right.
I write for flute and baritone saxophone–
a duet to play with a friend–
and then some pieces that represent the course of war,
and then some that feel like a swan,
and the other like a dog.

Now the singing–
the blending of voices and words
and the power, the strength
that they yield us!
How they push and pull on people
and change their minds
and influence them in
their lives, the way they move,
the way they create, what they do–
I learned about power.

Then learning
about my synesthesia!
And traipsing through paths
that come with each sound,
each tone,
each instrument’s quality
and feeling it as it
sings out
its soul!
The mixing of senses! The
immersion!
Into the world, the way that
hearing the gentle stroke of a cello’s bow
or the proud blast of a horn
means seeing color
tasting flavor
feeling texture
in every part of the ordinary.

Warm, fuzzy textures of the trombone’s bellow
cool, light weight of the flute’s whistle
soft, round tones of the French horn.
Coarse mashed potato in the bumpy swing rhythms
flipping like in a rollercoaster while listening to pitch run up and down
high, clear tones ringing through the main melody
that pitch me into a pool of frozen cold.

Tempo and rhythm–
adding some pitch bending for sour notes
and a hint of overripe fruit
electric synths for battery-charged electric arcs
snapping over tongues like sparks
classical style pianos for melting sweetness
like bags of rock sugar
shimmering effects like salty chips sprinkled
in pure powdered umami.

Imagine every time you hear the tss of a snare drum,
you feel grains of sugar pour down on you.
Imagine whenever someone plays the saxophone
the buzz rings through your head.
Though it might sound overwhelming
the immersion is something else altogether.
Something
I enjoy
all the time.

And I become curious about this–
read articles
look for books
talk to other people about it, more and more.
I learn about others’ perception of “auras”
around people, of
perceived versus associative
(seeing versus feeling) experiences,
and more.
I began
to understand.

Then,
I look back.

From the beginning
what has brought me the most joy is the power of
sound
and rhythm
and what they can be used for. Because
it holds smiles
and tears
and everything in between. Because
it’s in everything we
everything we do, from our timed steps
like the music of rain diving from the sky, steady like–
like the shush of snare drums, like the thrum of bass vocals,
like the march down the road in which we
sing and dance and beat our hearts
because aren’t those all the same thing?