The Power of Song

I just finished a nice little round of YouTubeaholism. Here's a trick to try by the way, before I delve into the point of this post. At the end of your viewing session, try to track back the route that took you to the last video you watched. Mentally of course. Our brains don't have a back button, or at least not a very good one, so don't use your browser to cheat. Its not easy, is it.

Todays path for me, as best I can recall, from beginning to end
A Lego stop motion animation of Circle Circle Dot Dot - Jamie Kennedy and Stu Stone
A side bar link to some little girl calling me a Noob
Some sad little boy's response to this insinuation
a high school teacher getting pie'd by his students
a not too bad, Transformer type piece of student computer animation
HappySlip's Mixed Nuts
Now I'm stuck on Christine, so I check her Mac Beautiful video
this inspired someone to respond with a shunning of his Dell laptop
Well, I didn't know that Al had actually released the song You're Pitiful after getting flack from Atlantis Records (James Blunt's recording label)
Ultimately that led me to the actual You're Beautiful video (no link, we've all heard it enough)

Still here? Oh so the point of this posting.

Once I got to You're Beautiful, I was transported. I was flashed back to a year ago. My world was in the process of unravelling. My emotions were in turmoil. I'm torn between some pleasure derived from understanding and the fear of the unknown. This song was there, persistently throughout that time. I can't say that I dislike the song, something about it is haunting to me, and thats attractive in a cold, comforting way. Something akin to my love of fog. It takes me inside myself. Much like a familiar scent or image can do. Even tonight its like my year and all the fear and pain and growth and reflection and strength and happiness I've gone through have just evaporated. With just a few notes its all gone. I know its not permanent, but its there. And it feels real. Am I repeating myself, saying the same thing in different words? I think so. Maybe because thats the sort of place I was in at the time. I don't do that now, its like a post-hypnotic suggestion.

The unfortunate thing I've realized is that I'm not sure I've got its antidote. A melodic trigger that will take me out of that place. Sure it will pass with time, but only after I've dragged myself through a series of unhappy memories that surround my heart with a little vacuum of space and slightly higher gravitational pull. My eyebrows, involuntarily, sag a little at the sides, pinching just a little between the eyes.

The artist in me knows the power of your work to instill emotion, but I can't help but wonder what it would be like to know something you've created has had such a indelible effect on someone else.