Strumming

Most often you can find Johnny tapping on something in perfect rhythm. He may be actually sitting behind his drum set or tabla; or he may be eating dinner, driving, waiting in line at the bank, or watching TV, but always tapping and drumming. It doesn't bother me unless he uses the top of my head as a drum. I understand that drumming quite literally courses through his veins which is one of the many reasons I fell in love with him, and I live vicariously through his talent.

It's been awhile since I've purchased a CD. The new music I've heard recently has poured from Podcasts, magazine CD samplers, and the radio. So I scanned my massive wish list and selected one of my long-time favorite bands: The Innocence Mission. Karen Peris's voice is like none other and her lyrics are poetry, plain and simple and beautiful, set to glittering production. And as usually happens when I fall head over heels for a CD, I've played We Walked in Song near continuously since my download from iTunes. While taking breaks from interview-transcribing, blaring it downstairs while I eat dinner or do dishes (didn't Over the Rhine say, "Play soft music loud"?), and in my car. Today I kept repeating two songs - "Since I Still Tell You My Every Day" and "A Wave is Rolling." Out of nowhere, I found myself strumming an air acoustic guitar and clamping on chords I don't even remember. I felt quite silly when I realized this, but I kept strumming and singing because the melodies were so pretty that it hurt a little, and I just had to immerse myself in those songs for awhile. I was semi-alone in the house anyway; the cats merely stared at me, aloof.

I'm no musician, but as I told an interviewee last week, I started to play guitar for fun a few years ago and gave up out of insecurity. My Dad (a guitarist and pianist) even said if I kept at it, I'd play well. I'm not sure about that, but I am mulling over the idea of Johnny searching for a good teacher (he wants to learn, too). For the love of Pete, my parents even gave me a guitar. It would be a fun hobby and creative outlet. And I could play rough lullabies for future bambinos.

Speaking of, I also downloaded The Innocence Mission's soft, elegant lullaby CD: Now the Day is Over. It is the quintessential music to play at night with candlelight right before I read Wendell Berry and fall asleep. These things help to fill the house with peace and beauty until my husband arrives home.