Mind Sculpting Instrumental Randomness

When I'm at home alone coloring, tiling, or up to some other type of craftiness, I like to let my mind drift along to the stories created by instrumental arrangements. (Check out No Other Radio Network or Discreet Music.) These are just as good as radio readings and dramas except I get to create not only the mental images, but the storyline too.

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First up is a jazzy piece that takes me on stroll. Insects buzz by, some nearly clipping my head and then bam - I've rounded the musical corner into an urban scene. So urban it must be NYC, even though I've never been there - the instruments reveal the setting to me. Traffic so thick and sluggish produces a cacophony of horns. The pace picks up, and so does mine. People rush by in a rhythmic stride. I keep to the pace, stepping to the cadence which is too strong to be betrayed. People, people everywhere. Buzz buzz buzz, busy they be. To the left and right of me I see conversations bubbling. I try to eavesdrop, but void of human words, all I hear are the shrill voices of the female horns interacting with the low belows of the male tuba.

Next is one of those sci-fi inspired random noise pieces. Emergency broadcast testing: no, the aliens have landed and brought us this. High-pitch squeals from various electronic instruments with buttons and wands. Let's hear the range of sounds and stay out of tune. DOoo dOOd, turn the dial and find the right frequency. Hello, hello, hello. Is there anybody out there? Is there there anyone at all? And then the sound that the slinky would shout as it tumbles down the steps, bounding head over heels if one end were distinguishable from the other.

And now the mellow melody announcing that dawn has broken and the sun is rising to display its magnificence. Each repeated measure from the wind instruments produces a new ray that breaks through the night's darkness waking up all who had been slumbering. First to rise are the fluttery little birds that busy themselves, hoovering here and there. And the steady wind instruments continue to blow away the covering of night to reveal more of the sun which grows larger and warmer. I awake, too, stretching and yawning at the dawn of the new day. The music of the sun fills my belly with the nourishment of happiness and hope. And it continues to rise until all is embraced in its glow.