Tag: painting

After reading an interesting article from the BBC on listening vs. hearing, I thought about the supremacy of sound over the power of sight.  In the article, the scientists brought up an amazing point.  It was that we give such a power to visuals, even though when we sleep, our eyes take a break beneath the fleshy shutter of our eyelids.  Meanwhile our ears remain in tune to any iminent sounds of danger of the voices of our loved ones.

And in terms of memory and recall, there is a reason why many romantic couples have ‘a special song’ that immediately sends them to a different place and time, where they vividly remember times past.  There is also a  reason why the two dissonant chords of the Jaws theme produce the a frightening image of a shark, whereas a mere picture of a shark produces an nonplussed exclamation of, “Cool, a shark,”

And when you think about it, sound is so much more subtle and nuanced than vision.  In real life, trees and flowers, cannot crescendo or decrescendo.  They cannot get louder.  You can move closer to a daffodil, but it cannot impose itself on you.

As a writer, to get myself into a certain mood, I will often set my Pandora station according to what mood I would like to evoke.  When writing urban fiction, I find tango fusion to be an excellent, sultry and stealthy set of vibes to get me going.  When writing about Byzantine icons, I find Greek motets to be the right compositions for the job.  And when I’m writing literary theory essays, I find simple solo piano pieces to be the right pace and timbre to get my own fingers steadily going on my keyboard.  Music definitely helps me write.  As it keeps going, I keep going.

But I could never put up a slideshow of images to watch while typing.  Although I love perusing Pinterest for travel inspiration or just to gawk at beautifully composed photographs taken by other travelers, I cannot simultaneously view pictures and write.  Although I draw inspiration from great images, my adoration and inspiration of images must be separate in time from my inspiration in writing.

I guess there is just something so disjointed about images.  Something stuck in time.  Something that stops the second you look away.  But music continues.  It commands your attention and curbs your thoughts to its emotional beck and call.  It builds scenes in your mind that don’t stop, but go on until the final decrescendo.

This post may have arisen because I am currently studying for Art History exams, and my gouge my eyes out if I have to stare at yet another Medieval or Romanesque cathedral tympanum….