My Soundtrack

Sometimes, when you are going through an especially tough time, you tend to notice art or music that applies to your feelings.   I think this is because it is very possible the artist who wrote the song or created the painting was probably experiencing similar emotions.   Over these last three weeks, my need to create things has increased exponentially - whether a creation of words through my blog, or a creation of art through my painting.  I've even considered getting back into the kitchen and experimenting with some of my baking recipes - something I haven't done since my last few weeks of pregnancy.   If you think about it, most great artists created their most profound works during times of struggle.  Picasso's blue period, which began as a result of his best friend's suicide, produced his most popular paintings.  Van Gogh was in a constant state of depression and mental strife, yet is now one of the most well known of the French Impressionists.  The Beatles' White Album was recorded during a time when the band was frustrated and considered breaking up, but it is often considered the epitome of their talent and contains the much loved "Hey Jude".   When a heart breaks in half, what comes spilling out is the raw essence of creativity.   That's not to say all artists are tormented and in pain all of the time, but there's something about loss and suffering that makes you want to produce something new.   It fills a void.  It gives you a way to start to rebuild what has fallen apart.  It gives you a sense of stability on unsteady ground.  It's also a little like sucking out the poison from a rattlesnake bite - it just gets it out!

Anyway, as I've been out and about in the world lately, a few songs have bent my ear and touched my soul.  I'm going to share a few of those here with you.     They aren't really all that heart wrenching or life shattering, but they spoke to me in one way or another.  Most of them make me think of Mike and I finding strength and comfort in each other.  

Allie Moss' "Corner"  and Lenka's "Don't Let Me Fall"  remind me of how fragile I feel sometimes, but how I know we can get through this, and that sometimes, I just want to know that  "Everything's Ok"   (By the way, if you haven't ever heard of Lenka, go look her up right now.   She's fun and quirky.  I used to try to jog to her song "My Heart Skips a Beat"  I say try because I learned fairly quickly I am not a jogger.)  
Although A Fine Frenzy's "Hope for the Hopeless" starts out really slow, it picks up nicely and has a message I need to hear right now.  

If I were the heroine of a movie, the musical montage of my healing process could be set to any of these songs.   While the music plays, I am shown opening my eyes, getting out of bed, writing, painting, laughing with friends, crying in the shower, leaning on Mike, talking to my grief group, and standing in the backyard - eyes closed and head tilted toward the sun.  And at the finale of the movie, you see Mike and I leaving the hospital, this time with a baby in our arms.  The pink balloon tied to the wheelchair comes untied and floats away.  The camera pans up to the sky, where the balloon crosses into the sunlight.   As the credits roll, this song begins to play.  And you know -you just know - everything is going to be ok.