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The Creation of Music

Rhythm, rhymes and all that jazz creates the soothing lullaby that transports many to a dreamland of ideas and spirit, or to a sandy getaway. A free forming flow of fear, salvation and elation. As a player, listener, and lover of music I have the power to transport myself to comforting communities during the most trying times. My music library has no label because its boldness is too rare to categorize. My sweet guitar melodies are able to slip under the tiniest of crevices to fill a room, unbounded by gravity, my G chord is able to take on the world. Not even the tightest of shackles are strong enough to control my beat. My music is that of Bach, Beethoven and Mozart, Louis Armstrong, Joplin, and Charlie Parker. The music I love is the whistle of leaves being brushed by the wind on brisk mornings; the tap tap tapping of pencils in Pre-Calculus class and the crisp swoosh of a soccer ball into the net during my afternoon soccer practices. My everyday life has its own musical symphony. My tempo is as fierce as a cheetah on the prowl. My playlist is as diverse as New York City.

My music is my own creation, the creations of other musical artists and the melodies I come into contact with during my daily life. During my literature classes I recognize the beauty of the musical flow of class discussions about our nightly readings. On the soccer field I relish at the opportunity to experience the sensational harmony of people coming together to make a collaborative play. There is no avoiding the earthly harmonies. A pacifier over strenuous circumstances or a rouse during spark moments, the versatility of music is enough to keep my ears captivated eternally. Seeking comfort in its deep bends and singing out during the uplifting melodies, I love my music.



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