Discovering and Rediscovering

Good morning readers, recently I've been rediscovering many things in my life; I guess it is a consolation of escaping from the cage of an abusive relationship, but recently I have started rediscovering music, particularly the healing power of song and singing (perhaps I can even add writing to this, but it's too early to tell for sure). Being silenced every time I sang was damaging to my spirit and I guess it's only just starting to heal.



To take a part of a verse from the musical Sweeney Todd:

My cage has many rooms,
Damask and dark.
Nothing there sings,
Not even my lark.
Larks never will, you know,
When they're captive.

Perhaps in my own way I was a Lark in a cage. The fact that I am, once again, starting to sing is more a sign of healing than most of the other subtleties also going on. In the process I am finding more and more songs that I used to love singing to, that I can still sing to. My voice isn't as good as it was (being out of practice) but I'm lucky in the way that the singing voice runs through the female line in my family. Along the way I am also discovering new music to sing to, Hayley helps a huge amount with this; we have similar taste in music and she regularly sends me songs over spotify. A lot of them end up in my playlists, and very quickly become some of my favourite tracks. Some include:

Rilo Kiley - Dreamworld (spotify) (youtube)

Matchbox Twenty - How Far We've Come (spotify) (youtube)

Hurts - Wonderful Life (spotify) (youtube)

As for rediscovery, there are a hell of a lot of tracks that I had completely forgotten about. Some guilty pleasures in the form of bad x-factor finalists, some boy bands, some rock, even a little emo. All these genres that I hadn't even realised I missed until I found them again.

For the past two years I've also been struggling with writing... I had thought it was Uni that did it. Being told I need to write, I thought, had stopped me from craving the need to. Perhaps I was wrong though. Last term's pieces were particularly hard to force, and maybe the emotional trauma of being unsure what I wanted in life, of having my hopes and dreams squashed, was preventing my brain from being able to draw inspiration from anything. It's early days yet, but having written over a thousand words in one sitting only a couple of days ago give me renewed hope that the thirst for writing has not been lost, but merely held back by some inner force to stop itself from being torn apart in the tornado of realisation and the debris that followed.

And now, dear readers, I shall go any test this theory, because the blank page is no longer my enemy, it is my canvas of wonders. Yes! I feel like writing again.

Take care guys.