The musician sat in his dressing room, crying like a baby. His emotions were spent as they had run through his body with no mercy at all. They had devoured him like the God’s of music preparing him for their sumptuous feast.
He took his music to new heights as his brazen spirit had lifted him from the boredom of stagnation to the fervor of innovation. The transition was overwhelming. This new world of mystical beauty had surrounded him with its rapture as he left his hold on the real world behind.
As he trembled before the throne of beauty, she offered him consolation as she whispered to the ear of his heart. “Be thou not afraid. My palace is of a different color, but my spirit is still the same. I am the wings that hover over your pillow in the silence of the night, bidding you to enter my Kingdom through the avenues of thy music. Your innovations brought you to me. I offer my blessings to you.”
After being reassured that his music does hold merit, and that his improvisations weren’t merely capricious, his tears turned from bewilderment and fear to confidence and pure joy.
When the song has no story to tell or music to support it, it just tires itself out as it goes through the motions. It is like a bird that cannot fly as it longs for the open skies. Innovation is a courageous attempt to give it wings so it can flow with the winds of time. The final judgment rests with the heart’s enchantment, deliberating that the tired old song is now called music.
Change for the sake of change makes no advancement, but change for the sake of beauty advances for the sake of culture.
From my book entitled, "A Sage's Diary."