What about improvised music?

Throughout recent history have lived many great composers. Musicians, who’s music continues to enchant people around the world, of many cultures and divergences. They took the time, to compose pieces of music that clearly express beauty; the beauty of human life, the beauty of nature, greif, joy, sadness, elation… and how they flow one from the other. It’s an amazing thing, that music can express this. Or is it? IS it just natural? We all have music, coming from our hearts. Our lives create music. Our inner experience – if we are experiencing life – is music. Experience is music.

And this music can be expressed by any instrument, most naturally of this is the human voice. Most people don’t sing improvising the music of their heart in public, as if in a living musical play. This would actually take incredible talent: talent of being a clear living instrument, and being able to translate the inner music into communications of words and sentences.

Improvised music is only so deep as the person playing it – only so diverse and expressive as the palate of experience that the artist can tune in to.

We humans mostly experience what we can believe. We only see what we can let into our world. If our lense is tainted, then we see a tained world. If we’re not in-tune, then we won’t be able to feel or express the true depth of our own human experience.

Improv music – this is an art form which has it’s beauty in spontaneity. Every moment is new – every song is new. After the piece is finished, it will never be the same again. Life is like that – each day is a little different.

When I sit down at the piano and play, I play each song until it’s finished, and then that’s it. That’s the only time I’ll ever play that exact song. Every note is once and done. Why hold onto everything?

We have the opportunity now to record everything. You can take a photo – and save it for a lifetime. But will it ever really be the same as being there? No. It’s just a file in the memory of a device that can help recall the real memory of the experience.

How many times have you wanted to take photo after photo of something, because everytime it’s just a little different? Maybe a walk through the botanical gardens, where each flower is so pretty, or maybe your housecat who sleeps in a slightly different cute pose every night – it’s just endless.

That’s the thing – it’s endless.

If I was a composer, that is I gruelled over making it so other people could copy my music – I would lose that magic that comes from spontaneity. It could work, as in I could make some beautiful compositions, I believe. Yet, I don’t. It’s not just that I don’t have the patience for it, nor is it just because it’s not fun. It’s because every day and every moment of every day is so new, that I would have to re-do everything the day after I finished it. I would be the most self-conscious composer. But I don’t waste my time feeling conscious. I just make a new piece every time I sit down at the instrument.