Music
Music has always been an important part
of my life. As a child I began to teach myself how to play piano.
Progressively, I expanded into other instruments including clarinet and
singing. As time passed, I found my interests lying in other activities such as
school, soccer, and theatre. Although I no longer played piano, clarinet, or
sang, I found myself engulfing myself with music no matter what I did.
As a child I was fascinated by
Beethoven. First, I was obsessed with the man, then his music, then his talent.
Night and day I would listen to his music. The sound created a sort of bubble
of peace around me that kept me happy no matter what the day brought. I then
began to learn how to play the piano myself. I started with a “book piano,”
which is just a book of color coated notes and numbers attached to a baby
piano. After weeks of playing with it at the store, I finally convinced my mom
to buy it. “Look Ma! Listen! Listen!” I screamed as I performed "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" for the
first time. “Is that you playing? Where is the music coming from Diana?” she
asked, astounded that I had learned the song completely on my own. After seeing
my will and determination to learn, my mom placed me in piano lessons. Three
years later I stopped attending lessons. As easy as it was to begin, it was
even easier to stop. I was never a very strong musician. It seemed that no
matter how much I practiced, I could never complete a full song without missing
a note, pausing, or forgetting which note was next. I felt discouraged. I did
not understand. I thought piano playing was my calling, my talent. It seemed
that my piano playing was only a peek of the life that was to come; that I
would never complete something without missing a step, falling behind, or not
knowing what to do next. All the while I still listened to Beethoven, hoping
that in his music, I would find what I was missing. The bubble of peace
remained.
I began to listen to music more
often. I installed a radio in my room and could not sleep unless it was on. I
went through phases of rock, hip-hop, and reggeton. Eventually I settled down
with music of my own. I found that I felt the most relaxed with indie, British
rock, jazz, and still, piano music. As I developed my own taste in music, I
began to rely on it more. Music was incorporated within all aspects of my daily
life. Whether I was at school studying, at soccer practice, or theatre class, I
was always drifting into my music. I realized that I was shutting myself away
from others so gradually I lessened my music intake. I began to listen to music
only when I felt truly happy or content or at times when I just needed to sing
out loud to let everyone around me know how great life could be. In 2010, I
took a trip to Europe. Throughout the trip I made sure to listen to music that
translated the excitement and joy of every activity. Now, my entire trip is a
portrayed as a short film in my mind. Every memory is extremely vivid and real.
At this point in my life I was nothing but smiles. I showed no emotion other
than happiness because I had no other emotions other than happiness. Then, my
family hit a wall. My uncle passed away. It was the first time anyone in my
family died.
It was the night of my birthday.
Exhausted from the events of the day, I had fallen asleep on the living room
couch in a hopeless attempt to stay awake with my sisters Isabel and Natalie.
We spent the day at the Houston Zoo. Isabel, Natalie, and my brother J.R knew
how much I loved the winter and Christmas time, so they decided the Houston Zoo
Lights was the best way to celebrate my birthday. We were dressed in big warm
coats set with gloves and scarves. After roaming the Zoo for a couple of
minutes, J.R and I picked up hot chocolate for everyone as Isabel and Natalie
chose seats for the Zoo Lights Christmas music concert. After the concert
Natalie and I crawled through the tunnel surrounded by fish. We took countless
photos posed as fish, dead fish, lions, and sharks. It was not until we were
forced out by the growing line behind us that Isabel and I ran to the merry go
round. We picked our favorite animals and sat along for the ride. About thirty
seconds into the ride, Isabel and I decided to “animal hop,” meaning switch
from animal to animal while the ride conductors were not looking. J.R’s and
Natalie’s initial face of shock and fear was priceless when they saw us on
completely different animals in completely different spots. Isabel and I could
not stop laughing. The blur of merry go round music and laughter will forever
be ingrained in my memories. It was by far the best birthdays I ever
celebrated.
At six a.m. the next morning, Isabel
woke me up, tears gently falling down her face while still managing to keep her
composure. She informed me of the news. “Diana. I have something to tell you.”
Immediately I began to cry, knowing that whatever words were to escape her
mouth next could not be good. “Tio Mondo…this morning” she did not have to
finish. We gave each other a long, silent hug. We stayed, motionless, lost in
shock. She then informed me that she and my brother would join my parents at
the hospital with the rest of our family. She told me that Natalie was going to
stay home with me, and that Mary Lou, the daughter of my mother’s friend, was
still on her way to be watched over as her mother worked that day. Overwhelming
as it all was, I managed to stay calm, crying occasionally for short burst of
times when others did. I had dealt with death of friends, but never of family
members. Even with those friends, I never actually mourned. I never knew how to
cry for them. Then, with my Tio, it was
the same situation. I felt as if there was something blocking me from feeling
what I know I should have been feeling. That same day I went to work. My mother
grew concerned. “Diana, you don’t have to go to work. Tell them what happened.
You are not ok, you need to stay home.” The truth was, I wanted to go to work.
I felt awkward at home. Seeing everyone show their emotions made me feel like a
robot. I hated it. I wanted to be able to do the same. I wanted to cry, but
really, really cry. I wanted someone to be there, to be the shoulder I needed
to cry on. But, I could not. Instead, I continued to be a shoulder for anyone
who needed it. It was not until the day of the funeral. I was running around
making sure everyone was ok, making sure everyone had tissues, making sure
there was no one left alone. I took my post with my cousin little Mondo, my
Tio Mondo’s son. It was not until the mariachi
band began to play in the distance. My ears perked up as I heard the music.
Then all at once, it set in. I began to cry. They were not the same type of
tears I had grown accustomed to. They were strong, hot, stinging tears. My
barrier had been broken. Looking back on
the events of that week, I now realize from the moment now that in that time
there was no sound, no patterns that could have helped me express what I needed
to. It was a time of silence, and I did not know how to conform to it in order
to meet my needs. Since then, I have emotionally grown. Little by little my
reservations seem to hide away. I still keep to myself in time of extreme
emotion, but for the most part I am learning.
I am currently in a relationship with a
guy named Bryan. We are extremely different. I love jazz, art, and fashion. He
loves Spanish music, food, and sports. We constantly fight about the pettiest
things. I am very stubborn and hard headed and, unfortunately, so is he. So
naturally we butt heads a lot. We fight about songs, plans, homework. We fight
about jobs, classes, TV shows. We fight about what we should eat, where we should go, and what we should do. More than anything, we fight about how we
fight. At least we used to. Any time I
got angry I completely shut down. I would not speak to him, look at him, or
listen to him. I used to get up, leave, and disappear for the rest of the day,
but that caused even more issues. I chose to ignore the issue and wait until I
cooled down to continue with my day. Bryan on the other hand, found that it is
completely and utterly necessary to talk about the issue right then and there.
He would not let me continue with my work until we solved our problems. This
difference in opinions obviously caused more tension between us. I got angrier
that he will not let it go, and he got angrier that I wanted to let it go. We
would spend thirty minutes arguing about how we argue, “Bryan, just leave me
alone and I’ll feel better and everything will be fine!” “Diana, you can’t just
ignore the problem and pretend everything is ok!” and eventually move onto what
caused the argument in the first place. I stay mad and so does he. We grow
silent. All of a sudden I hear my favorite song. He shows me his hand and asks
me to dance. We dance, I laugh, we make up. We realize how stupid our fight has
been and promise to handle our issues better. We still fight about little things,
but one of reminds the other of our last argument and how it was solved. We
talk, we listen, and we try to fix whatever it was that got us angry. After
every argument we play that same song “Yo No Se Mañana” and dance any hard feelings away.
The best memory I have with Bryan is the
day we went swing dancing. First, I must explain my ultimate love for swing
music and dance. I love the way the dancers move, the way they jimmy and jive.
The music is also amazing. It just makes the body want to move left to right,
back and forth, up and down. It makes my mind hop and bop around in happiness.
Bryan, of course, knows this. So when we saw a sign for a swing dancing formal
at our college, he immediately told me and began to make arrangements to go.
After class we got all dressed and dolled up, Bryan never gets “into
character,” but this time he did. He wore nice jeans, a button up shirt,
oxfords, and a vest. I wore a polka dot, sweet heart neckline dress and red pig
heels. As we were walking around campus to find the ballroom, we unknowingly
mistook it for a room in a different building. We searched for the room for thirty
minutes and found nothing. I was completely and utterly frustrated and sad. I
could not believe we were going to miss the event I wanted so bad to attend. In
the middle of my search for the right building, Bryan walked over to me,
grabbed my hand, put on a song, and we began to dance. After the song he searched
for the location online. He found it and we ran to the building the dance was
actually located in. We got there an hour late, but it was still the best date
I have ever had. Neither of us new how to dance, but we pretended like we did
and danced, danced, danced. Bryan is
often extremely shy and never wants to make a spectacle of himself, but that
night, he did not care who was watching. He just wanted to make me happy. We
are now a part of the Swing Dance Society and we attend lessons every Tuesday.
Even when he is working, he sneaks away for minutes at a time to be my dance
partner. For our anniversary, I am not quite sure of all the events of the day,
but he is for sure planning to take me to the Chocolate Bar in Houston for
their weekly swing dance night.
My relationships with people are usually
based on musical interest. With Bryan,
we began to hang out because we would always incorporate songs into sentences.
Anytime Bryan said “hey” I would respond with, “hey hey hey, I’m more than just
an option, hey hey hey” by Drake. Anytime I would say “hello” he would respond
with “hello hello, you know I say goodbye you say hello” by The Beatles. My
friends are usually found by shared music interest as well. I currently work
with the Orientation Team at school, and I am constantly breaking the ice with conversations
about music. I have made at least five friends with the line “what kind of
music do you listen to?” So far I have met one person who actually had more to
say than I did. He has been the only person I have met to teach me about music.
He gave me names of artists I should like, artists I might like, and artists
that are irrelevant to anything we talked about, but that I should still try.
He gave me insight about the artists and what contribution they made to the
world of music. On top of everything, he even gave me the name of movies and
directors I should check out. He gave me their history and contributions as
well. By far, Shawn is the best friend I have made in a long time. I am used to
giving people musical advice and telling them about artists, but the guy let me
sit back and relax as he filled my mind with knowledge.
Music is the best gift anyone could have
ever given me. It has led me to find who I am and who I want to be. It has
given me the opportunity to find new friends, a boyfriend, and my own
personality. My eyes have been opened to the world of music, not only
instrumental, but also dancing. Although I am not the best dancer, I now find
myself attending swing, salsa, and samba dance lessons. Music has expanded my
horizons and freed my soul from the cage it was once contained in.
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