Though music has a way of nailing the rawer parts of my soul to a cross, it rarely elicits enough emotion to make me cry. Actually, art and life-events in general rarely make me cry. It’s an unspoken rule of disassociation.
Today, the above cover of Miike Snow’s “Animal” broke that rule.
Through Javier Dunn’s cover of a long-time favorite song, I learned another meaning of love. In fact, I learned a new way to love.
As a writer, I’m accustom to possessing the gift of life – the gift of creation – the gift of birth. When love spills forth from the wellspring of my heart I cannot hold back the words. I cannot hold back the poetry. I cannot hold back weaving that person – that friend, that loved one, that family member – into any and every work possible.
After all, as an unknown source said, “When a writer falls in love with you, you never truly die.”
Because suddenly we write you into everything we can.
Even our secret blogs.
The same can be said for other artists, other creators. As poets write sonnets and free verse about those they love, musicians compose songs. Cooks create new, mouthwatering meals. Visial artists paint or sculpt. Photographs take endless photos. The list goes on.
So, for me at least, it’s hard to wrap my head around the idea of how creation doesn’t happen as a result of love. How that state isn’t the default of a elated heart.
Then this song was brought into my life by someone whom I love so deeply and dearly.
Someone who I didn’t even expect to remember how much I loved this song.
And the weight of the act mixed with the weight of the lyrics and, suddenly, I understood.
Understood how, without creation, you could show another person how much you love them.
Through art.
Through art they hold dear.
We all love with our hearts, but in many different ways.
Just as we express emotion differently. Artists give birth to new life. The wealthy purchase gifts. The “troubled” use their bodies.
Meanwhile many stumble around blind ’til discovering – “finding” – gems like these before using them as outpourings of the most sacred, powerful force in the Universe.
Love comes in all shapes and sizes and forms and methods.
Today, I saw, found, discovered, an entirely new one.
One hidden in the depths of this song.
By a man who did not write it.
By a man who did not sing it.
But by I man whom I love entirely.
And, honestly, that’s what really matters.
A victim of my own body 
I do believe that music is the most emotive of all the arts, the one that touches us more deeply than the others.
But this post is about so much more than that. It is deeply profound, and beautiful.
Reblogged this on City Jackdaw and commented:
As I said in my comment, I think that music is the most emotive of all of the art forms, the one that touches us more deeply than the others. But this post is more than about music, it is profound and beautiful and deserves to be shared.