A Messenger--Allan O'Marra / Marjan Mozetich

Something wonderful happened to me.  I had been plagued by ill-health and while on route back from a specialists office in Vancouver.  While driving back towards home, I turned on the radio, in an attempt to find traffic details so I could avoid the usual vehicle mayhem and tuning in, stumbling onto CBC's Radio 2 Program .  Although I have always held music close to my heart, I had grown into a time that I longer found much interest in listening to main-stream radio. The sad part was how much I had not realized  how much I was falling out of love with sound. To me, there was no acoustic pleasure; there was no music; it was just noise.

I was getting old and I just let that happen.

I recall that  at one point I had hardly noticed the accumulation of dust on my guitars . I could not fathom the idea that any music would supercharge me into feeling enraptured into song or dance.   I do reminisce though, that here was a time when I would shamelessly indulge in my "break-up" song.

Most of us have had one or two or three, but who's counting. 

We all find it during the same time; when heartbreak has tapped you on the shoulder and you wallow into chaotic madness.  The madness is only partnered with bad advice from those who mean well, but seriously can't just shut the hell up.  The only advice I can give anyone during this emotional fiasco is: This is the absolute WORST time to drink alcohol.  I tell you this because I care about you. As for me, my go-to song was Crazy by the fabulous, Patsy Cline.  How I would lament! Me, sitting at my kitchen table with a glass of wine, with little outbursts of "and I'm craaaaaazy for tryin' and I'm craaazy for cryin' and I'm crazy for lovin' you" ...sip sip. 

But back to the story.

I had suddenly found myself here, in a misty March morning in Vancouver when the radio let out a such a sweet note that made me instantaneously enamored.   Suddenly,  having to pull over and the notes that were playing were overwhelming me.

I could not believe this, I had re-engaged with music again!.  The only way I can describe what I was experiencing is that  I equate the feeling to being connected to visuals.  I am one of those people who can actually see the music. In my mind I envision it as a soundtrack to a memory; a moment in time or even a movie scene (that hasn't happened yet).

I was sitting and I was creating again!. This is what was so amazing to me. This music, by Composer, Marjan Mozetich, had actually flicked the switch on in my brain, 

I could still create, I was no longer old. 

I wiped a tear from my eye in quiet joy while sitting, in my car, parked at the side of 41st Street. 

Thank you, Marjan Mozetich, for this music, for taking me across the sky, on a silk cloud, into the universe. Bless you.