Longing

I am willing to listen to all manner of garbage whilst sitting in my car, on the way to anywhere. But in a room, where the world is not swooping by, I cannot stand 'radio music'. It's almost as if the stillness and silence of the room needs to be enhanced, not obliterated and destroyed with things like, "one two three...peter, paul, mary" (what is she trying to say in that song anyway? I would think that devout religious people would have quite a few issues with that song.) I need to feel rooted. I want to feel like a part of the space in which I am working or existing. I never turn music on unless I plan on staying in the space for a while. I cannot listen to only one song from an album. Once I pick an album, I commit to that album for the duration of my stay in that space. I strongly believe that albums are meant to be enjoyed in full, as whole works, and listening to some parts without the others is a real injustice.
Lately, and this has occurred mostly by necessity, I have found myself being completely taken by classical music. I say by necessity because the only radio station that works and is worth listening to in my studio is the classical station.I think this fact alone is interesting. (Perhaps it was the way in which the world could bring me to appreciate something new.) There is something incredibly transformative and meditative about classical music. I always feel like I am on a journey, no matter what composer I am listening to. Last night I heard part of an opera by a French composer (his name escapes me) called Samson and Delilah. There was one portion where a man with the most piercing and heartwrenching voice cried, "Delilah". He kept crying this. It broke my heart. I very much enjoyed the way Samson's longing for Delilah was transformed into a painful cry. I loved that I could feel it echo through every chord in my body. I knew that Delilah was not coming back. Yet, I wanted Samson to keep calling her anyway.