this morning at breakfast, i pondered the giant opinion machine that is the internet.
while sipping my coffee, i considered the impact it has had upon my relationship with experiencing new art, specifically music...
i was listening to a new song when a stream of dialogue entered my head. the conversation was an endless flow of voices questioning, justifying, persuading, arguing, judging, commenting, deciding, and analyzing. it was my own personal collection of imagined status updates, tweets, and posts regarding this song.
somehow, in between bites of cereal, i heard this discussion quite clearly and decided it had to stop.
i closed my eyes and imagined myself back in my childhood bedroom listening to my very first cassette tape...
i was in the third grade. using carefully saved coins, i bought the album at kmart from the bargain music bin. the cover art was the deciding factor. purple music notes playing on a stand mixer? sold.
when i was young, i loved listening to new music by myself in my bedroom. i usually had absolutely no idea what anyone else thought about it. i was geeky, clueless, and lacked MTV. i just loved what i loved, freely and with no judgment. listening to music alone in my room transported me through landscapes of feeling. it allowed me to have a personal response to music without regard for everyone else's opinions constantly pouring in on me.
this morning, i touched that time again. in my heart i felt that freedom. it was delicious. there were no itunes reviews, no snarky facebook comments, no tweets containing commentary, no posts proclaiming yay or nay, no articles with critical reviews.
it was just me and a new song over a morning meal. i felt the freedom to love without boundaries, a cherished childhood space that i adore and miss.
i plan to cultivate this experience more thoughtfully now that i have noticed its absence...