"Moses Josiah: Musical Saw Player"
I'm terrible at navigating myself through new subway lines. I'm used to the ACE/123, those I can handle. No problem. But today I had to take the L train. Now, when I'm taking a new line I have a tendency to wander, following signs and then waiting on platforms...never certain if I'm in the right spot until I get on the train. But in my wanderings today, I heard this eerily wonderful sound. It seemed to narrate my wandering, which I loved.
When I came out into the opening I saw groups of people leaning on pillars and walls, circled around the source of the sound. They had all stopped to admire this strange sound. I had never heard anything quite like it. Somewhere between a flute and a violin...maybe? Anyway...there, you will find the sound of the saw. Eerie, haunting and simply beautiful.
I think the mere fact that this man was playing the saw, and the commuters were so very mesmerized by it restates an earlier post. Music is our language. It is our roots. People will go to any length to find a way to express themselves musically. Musical expression is not reserved for musicians. Musical expression is human. iPods are always playing, we are always humming a tune, or tapping our feet. Music is in our blood.
Music is prayer, worship, devotion, celebration, joy, pain, sorrow, depression, love, hate, rebellion, confusion, and every other human emotion imaginable. It makes us dance. I believe it was Victor Hugo who said: "Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent."
But most simply, it is everywhere. It is the sound of humanity, and a true celebration of life.
I'm terrible at navigating myself through new subway lines. I'm used to the ACE/123, those I can handle. No problem. But today I had to take the L train. Now, when I'm taking a new line I have a tendency to wander, following signs and then waiting on platforms...never certain if I'm in the right spot until I get on the train. But in my wanderings today, I heard this eerily wonderful sound. It seemed to narrate my wandering, which I loved.
When I came out into the opening I saw groups of people leaning on pillars and walls, circled around the source of the sound. They had all stopped to admire this strange sound. I had never heard anything quite like it. Somewhere between a flute and a violin...maybe? Anyway...there, you will find the sound of the saw. Eerie, haunting and simply beautiful.
I think the mere fact that this man was playing the saw, and the commuters were so very mesmerized by it restates an earlier post. Music is our language. It is our roots. People will go to any length to find a way to express themselves musically. Musical expression is not reserved for musicians. Musical expression is human. iPods are always playing, we are always humming a tune, or tapping our feet. Music is in our blood.
Music is prayer, worship, devotion, celebration, joy, pain, sorrow, depression, love, hate, rebellion, confusion, and every other human emotion imaginable. It makes us dance. I believe it was Victor Hugo who said: "Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent."
But most simply, it is everywhere. It is the sound of humanity, and a true celebration of life.
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