It is a universal truth that there is something inherently beautiful about music. An art that cannot be explicitly described in words alone, music has bridged the spaces between time and culture, spreading and reaching throughout history and across the world. It has grown with humanity since we first set fingers to strings, hands to drumheads, and lips to metal. It is a reflection of the ever changing paces of the world and it seeks to represent something deep within ourselves.
It is an invention of humans, yet it is shaped by nature.
Though considered an art, there is a science to it. A physical explanation of vibrating strings and airflow across metal; a mathematical precision to melodies and rhythms; an anatomical support to fingers and voice.
When music was first penned onto five neat lines in rows of stemmed spots connected with bold strokes across the page, there was a methodical reasoning behind each note. Things were divided, quarters out of halves out of wholes, all tied to a metronomic pace of passing time.
And yet, there is music that is not hindered by age old practices of things written down. There is the absentminded drumming of fingers against tabletops and pant legs, and a carefree whistling tune floating on the wind. There is the soft humming while chewing on pen tops and snapping of fingers while stepping lightly across the street. There is no planning, no science behind it.
Only nature.
Something instinctual in every being to make noise.
And out of that noise comes music.
:) Kathryn