Here it is – the last post. 30 days is a significant chunk of time. 1/12 of a year. I had little to no idea what to expect from this project in terms of the response I would get, and it was overwhelmingly encouraging. I went into some of these feeling pretty uninspired and unmotivated, but I’m so glad I stuck with the commitment.
There are a couple things I’d like to note about the benefits of writing consistently.
You have more thoughts and observations in a day than you can possibly keep track of. A handful of them might be really useful to you and those around you. Tomorrow you may have another handful of useful thoughts that cause you to forget everything you just learned on the previous day. We are biased towards viewing ourselves through very limited windows of time – only the most recent ones. If, just once a day, you can take a moment and successfully flesh those ideas out, you’ll be able to save them and look back at a much more holistic picture of yourself.
I’m a big believer in the notion that you can learn and excel at anything through practice. If you want to become better at something, the only thing preventing you from doing that is yourself. Before this series, I realized I wasn’t very good at being honest about my inner thoughts with people outside of my tightest circle of friends. I wanted to become better at that. Writing provided me with a venue to practice that skill.
30 posts, 21,000 words, 76 pages double-spaced, 630 readers. I’m not sure how I’d go about assigning value to the time I spent on this, but what I’ll say is the value of having someone reach out and say “hey, your post meant a lot to me today” or “yesterday’s made me cry” is priceless. I highly recommend trying out the 30-day writing challenge. I’m still trying to figure out what my next 30-day challenge will be, but suggestions are welcome!
Today’s song suggestion was brought to you by none other than my favorite little wanderer. She pointed out that writing about an instrumental song will be an extra challenge. This is why she’s great; never letting me take the easy way out. Again, credit where credit is due, I would never have taken this idea up without her.
The Sky Was Pink is a song I discovered via show I watch on Youtube called Off The Air, which was shown to me by my roommate Adam. Showing people Off The Air is a really good litmus test that I use now to determine how much I want to be friends with someone. I say that with my tongue only partially in my cheek.
This song is a fantastic piece of art that leaves a lot of room for abstract interpretation. One thing that I think is really amazing about abstract art is the way that it leans heavily on our imaginations to bring it to life. We imbue it with meaning, making the appreciation of the art as important as the creation of it. In some respects, I think of songs like this as trees.
I know what you’re thinking. “He couldn’t think of 30 things to write about so now he’s just making stuff up.” Maybe that’s true, but this has been an idea that has been on my mind for awhile, so stay with me.
I have a very specific visualization of the story this song tells in my head, but how is that possible? How could a song without words tell a story? The seed of this vision starts with the title of the track; The Sky Was Pink. The mood of this song is almost stressful at times; particularly towards the end. The drums build and crash with increased intensity. There’s an oscillating synth sound that speeds up and slows down to create tension at the end of the track. When I hear this song, I’m sitting on a dusky beach watching a big storm build on the ocean. As the song builds the waves grow and crash, lightning strikes, and the potential danger of the situation increases. I don’t think I would have come up with this picture in my head without the title of this track; what I view as the seed. The visual interpretation of the song is the tree which was planted by the track. I’m going to take this metaphor one step further and suggest your imagination is the soil/climate/environment that the tree is planted in. The seed will determine the kind of tree, but rest of those factors will determine how it grows and changes.
A song is different to each person who hears it because their personal configuration of experiences and personality will determine what they associate the song with. In that way, regardless of how abstract a song is, each song is its own variety of tree. In general. the more abstract the song, the more leeway our imaginations have to shape the tree; the nuance of each branch and leaf being shaped by a multitude of mental variables that we couldn’t begin to count.
That’s the really cool part about when music meets the human mind. Ten different people could do a writeup on this song and come up with ten completely different things to say about it. I’d probably read them because discussing music is just all around my favorite hobby.
Thanks for joining me on this undertaking! It would have been so much less enjoyable without the feedback and support of those of you who took the time to read, comment, like, correct my typos, and share. I’m so excited about an upcoming series from Quinn Brandt that will be appearing on the site soon. Stay tuned 🙂