Dear Fellow Creative Spirits,
I’ve always thought of music as a necessary companion to creation. Without it, silence would get too loud. In some ways, I guess there isn’t anything worse than the shrieks of a sleepy morning, or the wails of a drowsy night; the silence that lives there has little to offer but haunting echoes of discarded thoughts. It’s an irrational fear of mine, a fear of the blank quiet, like needing a night light to keep away figures that hide in the dark. I am aware that music won’t banish silence, much like night lights won’t kill the Boogeyman; for one to exist, so must the other. I think of it as a spell, and for the duration of its enchantment I’m isolated but not lonely and curious but not doomed. If you’ve ever been attacked by ticking seconds or victimized by white noise, maybe you share my silly fear. If so, I offer reprieve, if only until the music stops.