I Will Not Be a Flake

If there’s one thing I’m not, I’m not a flake. I refuse to be a flake. To me, there aren’t priorities. There have never been priorities. There are simply commitments. My mind cannot stack items in order of importance because there will always be some threshold that prevents all of the things at the bottom of the list from being reached, so those things really have no place on this list.

[Is a task of low priority a promise? Will the items at the top of the list disappear, with the low priorities suddenly becoming high? That’s possible, depending on what they are. In my experience, low priorities stay low because they were low to begin with, and if they have little importance to you now then how can it become more important later? ]

All my life I’ve been told to take a chill pill. I thought I had improved, but there’s only so much that people get right about themselves. I’ve always thought that I had no trouble saying no to things, and I still think so. If I don’t want to do something, I will say no firmly. Strangely though, I’m only now realizing that I still have significant difficulty saying no to things that I would love to do. Too bad there are just countless things that I would love to do. I marvel at golden opportunities that blossom everywhere, and there is only so little that I can take.

I suppose this is where intelligent humans learn to prioritize and put first things first. Does scripture study take the top of the list, or does sleep, hygiene, my girlfriend, job, future preparations, any one class or every class? Then all those unimportant things – eating well, saving money, attending activities, extra study and practice, a social life, personal interests, hobbies, exercise, blogging – do they make up a bottom half of the list? Clearly not everything can be done at once. But are there really things that cannot be attended to? Clearly they all must be in order to promote some sort of balance in life. But I think people like me can really only pick and choose what must be done at one point in order to keep sane. Businesses, clubs, organizations…. they are so afraid to lose you. You are a human, an invaluable resource. They are selfish and want the most out of you, for a somewhat one-sided benefit. Friends want your time. School demands it. Work requires it.

I had a thought not long ago. “Be a flake,” it said. “Just give it a try.” That’s not something that’s ever crossed my mind before. Perhaps, in order to get into the habit of saying no, I ought to irresponsibly quit whatever I had going. Just this past week, I took a last-minute trip to San Diego with my friends and ditched a conference that I had been helping plan for many months. It was literally some of the freshest air I had breathed for a long time. I had to ask whether or not this was a priority to me.

It was not a priority. It was a commitment, one that I had made long ago, and one that I was no longer willing to keep. A man only has his word, and if his word means nothing, then what is he? I broke a commitment, in turn making another. A man can only handle one thing at a time. So I guess my word isn’t perfect after all.

Why did I make a commitment? Did I actually want to do it? Sure, I did. But how often do the things we want to do actually make us happy? I could get some kind of fulfillment out of doing a host of things, and I can look back with fond memories at all the things that I’ve done. But that’s the way I’d like to remember them. They were difficult, I was confused half the time, I was generally unhappy. Is it possible then that there is really nothing that stresses me out? I stress myself out when I place my commitments to the forefront of my mind where they belong. I cannot do the things that I want. I cannot even do the things that I need. I can only do what makes me happy. The minimum! It sounds like nothing, not very much. But it so quickly goes over the top.

I guess I was worried about living a fulfilled life. But my guess is that such a life is not necessarily a filled life. Life will become full of something, and I assume if anything low-priority has any part in it, those need to be as consistent and fruitful as high priorities. Whatever those may be. I really am not going to assume that anyone can be happy doing things any one way. But I suppose I can make a few observations—

  • Trying to hard to make a difference in the world right at this moment can be really distracting, when focusing on personal happiness can actually influence other lives immediately in a much better way.
  • A lot of things are important, and if they are, learn to do them all. Don’t eat poorly forever because there isn’t enough time to learn how to cook.
  • That being said, even things that seem important need to be swept under the rug for a while. Those might be low priority, but when something is swept away then there’s a better chance of it not popping back up anyway.
  • Life doesn’t have to be an enormous laundry list, with a few small breaks in between. Maybe it’s one big holiday, with some problem-solving situations shoved inside to make it interesting.
  • Anticipate that when life gets busy, it gets busy fast. So no need to keep filling your time, unless you are sure that it will be empty for a good while.

Sleep is a Death

Sleep is a death each time it befalls us.
We are gone, simply gone, when we fall and lose consciousness.
How long is a death?
An eternity, until it is broken, when we are woken.

To awaken half-risen,
without arousing the faculties,
the mind desires to turn.
Where are you, who are you?
The mind searching to remember.

And so that Renaissance which you alone found,
the great stretch of the body and mind,
became a memory,
and sleep brought death upon the spirit which you once joyfully claimed.

Can you reclaim it?
Try as you must, or continue as dead.
There are no great victories,
because they are all so many, so small.
The small victories,
day by day,
build the fortress over death.

Faith, Hope, and Love

When a recent missionary wrote in her email, “I think it’s so crazy that everyone is just taking their own separate paths now in life!”, I remembered having the same thoughts and fears. I still have these thoughts, but as I grow older I remember we started taking our own separate paths a long time ago. This was my reply:

You might feel homesick every once in a while, but don’t be alarmed that all these things are going on back home. You won’t recognize the world you return to, and that’s okay. At least I didn’t, but that was because we weren’t emailing our friends back then; I’d be lucky to hear family members several times a year. People come and go; even if you want to stay friends with everyone, they may not choose the same, and that may be simply because there are only so many people one person can handle in their life. You have a great family that will still be here when you come back, and I know it’s hard to believe, but the best is yet to come! It sounds like you are deep into the work, so there’s no real worries.

I did learn a lot of things on my mission. Many of those things do apply to me now, and I was just thinking about one of them. A bit into my mission, my companion asked me, “Do you love being a missionary?” I thought it was a loaded question. To be honest I did love it, but I didn’t know whether or not that was true at the time. When the time came for me to go home though, I was sure as a rock that this was something that I loved. There wasn’t any other life that I wanted. Going home was one of the saddest moments of my life. But it shouldn’t be. There is life after death, and it’s just got different rules than mission life. People usually just make it up as they go along. Thinking about that gave me strength recently, because I know many people as well as me worry about “loving” every moment of what you’re doing, otherwise you’re wasting time. But I don’t think it works like that. It’s just easier to realize that you love something that you have spent time loving, so if you haven’t started, then the best time is now, and the best way is to smile and give it a shot. Eventually, it becomes clear.

It doesn’t really sound like it beforehand, but the mission is such a high! It’s a high through and through and it’s super difficult the entire time. But the high comes from the hope and faith of the missionaries and the support that companions and leaders lend them. And then there’s the love of the work, which for me came with time. I think it’s a special combination of these principles that empowers our lives. At the moment, I am comforted by this thought, because I know that my situation need not be one of despair. Last night the missionaries were at my house and asked us how faith, hope, and charity were related to miracles. Faith and hope bring miracles to us, but charity is how God works through us to bring miracles to others. Obviously there are other ways, but I love the simplicity and sincerity of the principles which remind me to push forward with a smile.

Slimming Down on Junk

I have a new goal for myself. I often find that when I am swamped in work or just wanting for time, I also find myself indulging in mindless drudgery, useless bits of time. These can include excessively checking the phone, snacking and eating fast food, or going on YouTube and otherwise just chilling. Thinking on this makes me realize just how how much of my life is can be wasted, even harmed. Resorting to these habits may help me forget what stresses me out, but also the little important tasks that need to be done. They take less effort than other things that aren’t necessarily required of me, but would benefit me in the long run. Such things as:

  • exercising/strengthening
  • playing music (esp. in preparation for something)
  • studying a foreign language
  • scheduling dates/friendshipping
  • programming
  • reading
  • overall becoming educated/acquiring new skills

It’s a rather odd phenomenon that these actions, when their durations are totaled, take up a significant portion of the time that I actually have to myself. I told a good friend how I felt about having time to do things, and he reasoned that “you sleep for eight hours and work for eight more. Add in eating and driving and that’s a few hours more. You still have around four hours a day to do different things.” Thankfully I live close to my work and do not have to experience daily traffic. That’s quite a blessing, though coming home after working for a day, I would simply like to nap, while in my mind, I urgently need to hit the gym, eat dinner, and participate in other activities for the night (and when those activities involve other people, they hardly ever only last one or two hours).

I don’t know if it is necessary to “fast” from these activities, like a diet. But I do think it is important for me to think more before acting, in order to make things happen. It’s good to wind down and watch full movies every once in a while. At least they are something to talk about later. But I am sure that stopping myself before mindless self-indulgence gets out of hand will greatly benefit me in every way.

This Will Pass

“Pay attention to how you feel,” I would ask this of people all the time as a missionary. I knew what to expect, but perhaps I didn’t understand why exactly saying this was so necessary. Now, after each day of having to drag with me a load of my weaknesses and shortcomings, I am frequently at a loss at how to regain myself. I seem to recognize that I am just a footprint that society wishes to erase. I never anticipate, and similarly neither do I expect it, to enjoy peace. In fact I seldom remember that this is what I crave when I lack others to help lift me.

At this very moment, all I care about is that I have peace. Right now. And it feels familiar, but still fresh. Like I know that I have felt it countless times before, but it still feels like such a rarity all the same. It seems transient and dispensable, like a spell that eventually will break, but can be enjoyed for a stretched bubble of time.

This is how I felt as a child, sitting in the dark at the piano with only a lamp above and the silence surrounding whatever reality I chose to create. This is how I felt during long nights at New Heritage, facing the large window and seeing a future as wide as my view. This is how I felt as I stepped foot onto the airplane on the first day of my mission, boosted by the words of the blessing given by my patriarch. This is how I felt on a long drive from Port Macquarie, listening to waves breaking on the rocks and the sound of earnest prayer. This is how I felt after a day in Hyde Park, hearing the words of others who shared the peace they felt in their hearts, as I shared mine. It passed, but it was real.

I am impressionable. I listen for the beauty of music, the deepness of words. My heart is open to the dews of heaven, soft enough to plant the seeds of inspiration. This is the mind of an innovator, a creator, and a thinker. This is everything that is necessary in an anxious, buzzing world ever in need of more, always more. Memories of light seem brighter than the sun under which I walk every day. This too will pass, but I am inclined to believe that it is real.

In every hardship, every trial with seemingly no end, the words “this will pass” never seems to strike with the power of its truth at the correct moment. But then peace arrives, time after time, so that it feels like a dream. And maybe in a way it is, as I could throw it all away if I wanted and become anxious once again. Somewhere in my heart I can’t help but feel that this world is meant to have meaning. I’m not sure what that meaning is. I feel as though I don’t need to know, and that having such little light is enough for now. I know that soon I will say goodbye to this brief moment of my life when I can enjoy that something deep can touch me, as it was meant to, and I hope that when I return to whatever state my life is in, I can appreciate the rays of light that, at times, I am privileged to touch.

“Snap out of it!”

For a brief moment, you had vanished from the world and were lost somewhere in imagination. But suddenly you stepped away, choosing not to hold onto those wild feelings.

“Snap out of it. You’re in the real world. Things in this world require your attention, where people suffer real consequences. There simply isn’t time to explore the world of your selfish pleasures while your life ticks away.” Am I simply no longer a child, with no more means to wander and grow? How could the world have become so cruel as to take us away from our guilty pleasures and romantic escapades? We could just live them through others, through video and photos taken by others, injecting in us with pangs of jealousy. Their worlds are either real or fantasy, but it wouldn’t really matter, because they aren’t ours. We just digest them in bites and move on, for the sake of time. If only goals were reached this way, watching others succeed as we watch ourselves sulk away in misery. How was that other world I saw created? It was created in the mind of a person. It was fashioned by somebody, somehow. Your world, and the world you see others live, those existed and you had to experience them in some way. But they weren’t new and probably didn’t carry with them any personal attachment.

I suppose I am lucky though. I somehow landed a job, which I could keep if I worked hard at it. I will finish school without having suffered too much debt. Although, I am alone. I would really enjoy having a companion at my side. It is said that you can really marry any person and learn to love and get along with that person. But would I inflict that upon myself? I’m one of those obsessed dreamers that wants the one that is for me. Just like I want the job that is for me, or the major, school, location, and lifestyle. Actually, I could get used to this. My life is fine — I do fear that in the near future, I will be beyond broke, still be alone, and will all but beg as the others who have gotten ahead provide for their loved ones — but that’s a silly fear. I can live cheaply and still live nonetheless.  And I would get used to it. I could stop everything I have and learn to live in the wilderness, away from the corporate world. And I would survive, because that would be the life I’d have chosen. In fact it would be wonderful to escape the fear of running out of money, or “reality” as many call it, although quite frankly it’s the same concept as following what makes one happy, otherwise known as pursing a “dream”. Why then should I only suffer in finding a good mate while I let the rest of my life settle in mediocrity? I guess it’s because I’ve never had to put in so much effort to figure everything out at once. And my body rejects it, just like it rejects every other good thing in my life, out of fear of losing my now-known comfort.

I can learn not to be dissatisfied. I can be happy with the life that I have, and I would be happy because I so chose. But should I worry if I could be happier? I guess you have to ask yourself how far you’re willing to go. James Marsden once described going through an intense process in order to get abs for a show. He said that it wasn’t worth it at all — he is fine with how he looks, and pursuing that image was just not worth the effort. I have also fantasized about having a six-pack and being worshiped for doing nothing but simply having a body, but that may just be a dream that requires more than we can reasonably afford. It is definitely achievable for many people, and good job to them that have worked and achieved such. I think that may key as well — you’ll only really be satisfied with how far you’ve gotten if it’s your efforts that have gotten you there.

To be a Good Man

We stand still. Growing, little by little, but static in the scheme of things. Many people pass by our way, though a great many more stay in place. The years pass and the pages unfurl, yet the words never move, neither are they touched. You realize that these people, such friendly and good-willed people, all around you are no different from you. Unfruitful, unknowing of which way to turn. No other trifle of knowledge could be so chilling.

The world presents a dilemma, or five-hundred or so at once. When you stand in the midst of it all, you lend a hand to help. Each hand helped becomes a friend, or an acquaintance, as no man can be so close.

Why, then, are you a good man? How does one see the pages unfold and transform through the torrents of nature? Is not mankind alone, together alone, with no bond but that of the fleeting intimacy of friendship? Why are you a good man, alone a good man in a universe of space and nothingness?

The value of a soul, the value of a life … why must there be other life than yours alone? Is it not good for man to be alone? Loneliness is trust because other men have proven so frail. Yet loneliness, peace and silence, sits without knowing the goodness and atrocity of synergy. It is loneliness that drains the life of value, while others progress like the puppets behind the wall. It is loneliness that robs the truth of meaning, through the incapability of transmission. And it is loneliness which takes from life a life, a particle subject to chaos but invisible in the masses.

You, my friend, are a good man. A globe you have held upon your shoulders, while those on its surface have wandered still in search of their hero. Alone, you are a good man, but the world calls to you for the joy they can see but still do not believe. The gods scrambled for the fruit of your labors, and though your stature reached high above the ground, those men were never seen by you but eye to eye. Is the friend alone, or is the befriended? And for whom will the desolation dissipate? I see in you the good man who chooses the good, because it makes men good men. To be a good man — how I wish to be a good man! But to be a good man is to know, to do and to love, without reservation, and with unceasing growth. And perhaps that is the great blessing: that a good man finds himself alone, so together we may find ourselves.

Prayer Report

I feel like this has been a very difficult week for everyone. School has just been hard, at times making me feel worthless. I tried helping someone who was looking to hire a tutor for his homework and I found I could not help, even it was rather simple. And so I broke down afterwards. That happened several times this week. I failed a midterm. I haven’t been finishing homework. Anyway I have been waiting for a break but it will never come.

I have lost my emotions more times than I can count, and though it is probably not without precedent, it has certainly been a while since this has been the case. I had been up Thursday night doing homework at the last minute, only finishing less than half before having to click the submit button. I have already been doing poorly in that class too, and my inability to complete one more assignment was unsettling. It was very late at night and I had to wake up early to receive a phone call for possible internship. But my phone would not turn on so I could set an alarm, and I stood there waiting while I lost sleep. I was angry, to say the least. But then I suddenly thought that if I wanted my phone on, I could ask God. The words of James 1:5 came to my head and I felt the need to try it.

Each day passes by and my prayers are usually meaningless and short.

But I asked Heavenly Father if that phone could turn on. And I asked for what I didn’t have – the Holy Ghost. I stopped when my phone seemed to start working again and I just stood there very calmly. It was totally dark and I wondered if I had been inviting evil spirits instead of the Spirit through my actions. But I could not believe that up until that point, I had been a raging emotional mess. At that moment, everything seemed okay.

The call did not come in the morning, but that experience taught me something. That even though I feel like a terrible person, I am still able to receive the Holy Ghost. And that there is some power I can draw for myself through prayer.

I went skiing that night with my friends. I have skied only a few times, but I have been improving. The only thing I haven’t tried is the biggest, steepest slope – ‘Top Gun’, a black diamond trail. So it seemed about time for me to try it, because everyone else already had. My friend told me that I would hate it the first time. When he took me up, he went down very easily. And it was his first time snowboarding. I could not go down even halfway because my skis kept falling off and I had so much trouble moving. I felt really helpless because every time I fell, I would slide down the mountain because it was so steep and putting skis back on without standing was very difficult. It seemed impossible, except that I remembered that each time I have gone skiing, I have been going down steeper and steeper slopes. Each time there was a big difference; this was especially true the first time I had gone skiing, as I had been terrified. In my mind I wished it to be flat and easy. But it was a mountain, and you slide down it. But every time I’ve gone I’ve had to try again and in a few tries, it becomes comfortable. To me, this was the same experience. This slope was so steep that if I didn’t keep cutting into the ice, I would slide down all the way to the bottom on my back. I actually gave up and finished the slope by taking off my skis and sliding down that way. But I realized that I had made a lot of progress in a few times skiing. My friends kept pushing me to do harder things. I’ve never played any sports in my life, and I’ve always thought I was crazy. But I realized that my frustration is a good thing. It help me get through these small trials. And these trials keep getting bigger and bigger very quickly. But learning how to get over them makes people stronger. So I knew that this task will not be difficult for long. Just try it again, and it will work.

I wished today was a day I could relax, but it is not. Parts of me still wish I could be stronger, handsome, athletic, and smart like my friends. But I suppose if I knew that I could do better just by trying, it would make me a better person than I am.

The Tumult of Opinions

In an era of social media and in the midst of another election year, people have never been so free to speak their minds, nor have felt so obligated to do so. In this war of words and tumult of opinions, perhaps we seek to strike a curiosity in others, but among those who are loudest and most presumptuous, opinion bears the fruits of discomfort and bitterness.

Those who are young are taught the difference between fact and opinion, yet those who have grown too often blur these lines. Opinion may be based on fact, but in contrast to fact, opinion cannot be proven true nor false. Thus how can argument be intensified to achieve greater effectiveness? Through appeals to emotion and twists of logic? Through vicious attacks and spitefulness? In the tumult of opinions, the deeper meaning behind the issue is lost, and while the argument is to settle who is right and wrong, there are enough voices to bring each other down, and the opportunity obtain wisdom and learning is circumvented.

Seeing other voice their opinions is admirable. It makes us want to raise our voices and cry our beliefs to the world. But have these beliefs been nourished through honest and sincere study? How would it be that the same generation who felt the need to be heard online had been fed those opinions by a quick Google search or video bite? It is said by some that those who do not hold to their own opinions are controlled by their peers to conform to society. All the same, those who feel such may form opinions solely for the purposes of forming them, and the ground on which they stand cannot truly be firm (not without the voice of Susan Bennett).

While observing the fighting that appears fruitless, we may point our motive to the words of James Madison, who highlighted the importance of the fight. However I believe that those who take this as rationalization to fight simply for the sake of argument have failed to understand that, while men are not angels, how much better a world could be for one to at least make an effort act like one.

Ambition must be made to counteract ambition. The interest of the man must be connected with the constitutional rights of the place. It may be a reflection on human nature, that such devices should be necessary to control the abuses of government. But what is government itself, but the greatest of all reflections on human nature? … A dependence on the people is, no doubt, the primary control on the government; but experience has taught mankind the necessity of auxiliary precautions.

Experience has taught mankind a similar lesson outlined in the Doctrine and Covenants:

We have learned by sad experience that it is the nature and disposition of almost all men, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose, they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion. Hence many are called, but few are chosen. No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; By kindness, and pure knowledge, which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy, and without guile— Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy; That he may know that thy faithfulness is stronger than the cords of death.

What greater aspiration does the natural man have than to hold dominion over another person? Would that not be the effective way to bring about change, to take away another’s agency and fully exercise one’s own? We all see things so differently, why is anything worth saying at all if it is not without guile? Pure knowledge and love unfeigned as a primary motive for our uttered remarks would be so ideal if put into practice.

I do not see a better way to bring about real change in the hearts of the people, including ourselves, than this simple inspired instruction. No, men are not angels. We need each other. Ambition must be counteracted, but let not your own ambition be empty and cold. No, not all men are angels, but I would expect that at least one life be made better were we to move toward a society where angels among men were not disappearing, but rather the converse. One life, if we tried for one day to be better.

Formulating the Proposal for Music Accessibility

What is so appealing about the great composers? Great artists and producers? It seems to me that we can educate about music history, music theory even. We can explain the revolutionary minds of great composers. We can discuss the profundity of selected masterpieces. We can do all of this, and students will continue on believing what they want about music, dismissing music that seems all too distant from the everyday world. There is no use in delivering blame, as they know as much as I do whether or not a situation would arise in their futures requiring them to enjoy music of a certain flavor. The principle is not similar to being bombarded with mathematical principles and only choosing certain ones to memorize, because eventually all of those skills will come to some use, in application or in theory. But perhaps a musician, or anyone else for that matter, is presented with a musical concept or a piece of historical knowledge. He (or she) can choose to remain in the comfort zone, and even if he is asked to perform a work by a certain composer, he can continue on living afterward with his opinion. The requirement to learn anything is moot.

By accessibility of music, it is not the necessity for more understandable music to which I refer, but rather the need for works currently deemed as inaccessible to public comprehensibility to be introduced and taught in an engaging manner. Proposals for music school reform are plentiful, though in many schools where Music Appreciation classes are provided to non-musicians, the question often awkwardly becomes one of whether or not teaching such classes can be truly relevant to students. Music Appreciation as a class seems to be most effective when simply having students share music that they love with each other.1 While I believe this to be a crucial element in education in music, the question again arises whether or not art music should be studied, and perhaps more importantly, whether or not a medium so transient as music can reasonably be analyzed.

Music cannot be analyzed in the same way as other art. Sure, there is music that attempts to express extra-musical elements, but those elements are never precisely clear unless it is that certain sound that is being referenced. For example, the sound of cannons in Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” is obviously representational of, you guessed it, cannons firing. Before the 20th century, the attempt to construct abstract musical expression was not a feature of the visual arts, but even in the movement toward abstraction, even in seeing the shapes in Kandinsky’s “Composition VII,” what we see with our eyes on the canvas can always be at least somewhat relatable to real life subjects, while music at best can be seen as an attempt to give order to sound, but without the real-life subjects upon which to model.

So how can we get people invested in music who are not already invested in it? Music is a common interest in so many people’s lives. For many, it is a daily habit to immerse oneself into a playlist of endless songs, either to pass the time or to serve as the background moodsetter. Music is an abstract language, and simply speaking beyond the simplicity of the “happy major” and the “sad minor,” it is difficult for people to understand music without its association with words sung to it or the film which it accompanies.

And perhaps music is meant to be such. Millennia have passed and we still have yet to determine the logic behind our indulgence in such a strange pastime. Music is language that we do not wish to explicitly define, as we have with our verbal languages, otherwise we would not need words to communicate that which music can. Listening to spoken languages other than our own is perhaps then a music to us, and even poetry can have that same effect. But again, those words are assigned values that can then be translated into a language which we understand. Is this so with music? (Un)fortunately not.

Perhaps we can begin with describing form. It is music that follows specified form that can then be broken into further smaller pieces. But what does form communicate to the average Joe? Perhaps the music can then allude to another piece of the same form, but otherwise I do not see how the layman’s understanding of form brings further insight into their lives. Copland expressed that he would rather the listener be “sensitive to the musical tone than to know the number of vibrations that produce the tone. Information of that kind is of limited value even to the composer himself. What he desires above all is to encourage you to become as completely conscious and wide awake a listener as can possibly be developed. There lies the kernel of the problem of understanding music.”2 It is true then that the greatest need for the listener to understand music is for him to actually listen, wholeheartedly, to it. While I agree with this statement, there is still a part of me that wants, more than to share the mysteries of world masterpieces, to have those answers for myself. This is another great strand of faith onto which I hold. There is an analysis of music apart from that which “mutilate[s] the spirit of a work” that can leave behind greater wisdom in reality and brings the veneration from the artist to his art.3 This is the experiment upon which we embark.


  1. Silverman, Marissa. “Rethinking Music ‘Appreciation'”
  2. Copland, Aaron. What to Listen for in Music, xxxvi
  3. Varèse, Edgard. “Jerom s’en va-t’en guerre.” The Sackbut, 4. The full quote is: “By its very definition analysis is sterile. To explain by means of it is to decompose, to mutilate the spirit of a work.”