I wasn’t raised in a quiet environment. If there is one thing I associate with my childhood, it’s noise- specifically music. Arriving home from school, the discordant notes of my dad’s electric guitar were the first sounds to greet me as I walked in the door. Similarly, as I fell asleep at night, the pounding music that my dad listened to acted as a unique type of lullaby. As the singer of an infamous punk rock band, he has a tendency to elevate the noise level of any environment he enters. Initially, I wasn’t partial to the constant noise of my house. However, after almost 18 years of sound filling every room, I can’t imagine my life without this ever present soundtrack. In this way, music has become a physical place for me, a happy reminder of family and home amidst the chaos of everyday life.
Growing up, I learned to add to the music around me. I started with piano at the age of six, then eventually taught myself guitar and ukulele. If I ever need to escape the drama of teenage life, I can easily turn to one of these instruments and lose myself in them. My favorite musical environment, however, is within a choir. This became apparent to me during one rehearsal at Arrowbear Music Camp in 2012. Despite the constant buzz of mosquitoes and the unbearable odor of bug spray, our choir’s first run-through of Brahms’s Requiem brought me to tears. Surrounded by one hundred effortlessly blended voices, it was easy to sink into the haunting melancholy of the piece. After being raised surrounded by the clamor of punk rock, it was the structural beauty of classical music that truly resonated with me. Since then, my interest in music has grown and continues to do so to this day. I find myself more and more able to completely immerse myself in whatever I’m singing, playing, or listening to.
My passion for music has also fostered an addiction to concert-going that has both emptied my pockets and filled my soul with memories of wonderful performances. Through concerts, I have discovered music’s universal ability to bring people together for a few blissful hours. Sometimes it’s by becoming closer to a friend I came with to the show; other times it’s being introduced to dozens of brand new friends that are packed tightly around me in the crowd. No matter the circumstance, once the lights dim and the bass line of the first song thrums in everyone’s chest, it is easy to slip into a peaceful, sometimes cathartic, world that only exists between the musicians and the audience. For the next few hours, I am completely at peace and all worries are forgotten.
It’s moments like the first song of a concert, or the resolving harmony at the end of a seemingly endless choral piece, or when I finally master the trickiest part of a song on the guitar, when I find myself at my happiest. The location itself doesn’t even matter. With the right soundtrack I can create my own happiness with whatever I am given. One day, I’d like to be able to recreate for an audience that same feeling of happiness and relief. I can see this passion developing into a career as a music supervisor in movies. Why do I feel the need to share my love of music with the rest of the world? For me, music simply makes life BETTER. It is the sound and celebration of life, and the perfect accompaniment when confronting challenges. It helps me make sense of the world I live in, and it is the perfect escape from that world when I need one. I know that I can always rely on music as my “happy place”, and that wherever I go in life, I’ll have a constant symphony propelling me along.
