“Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.” ~Maya Angelou
What’s your refuge, respite, how you repair?
I’ve become resolved to expand my creative self. I’ve always had one big toe dipped in the artistic pond, but as adulthood, responsibilities, and the 9-5 took over, I woke up one day and realized that I had transformed solely into a supporter of the arts, rather than a contributor.
Art in all of its glorious forms, is my refuge.
I’ve recently taken up plucking at the ukulele. Such a quaint instrument, capable of such beautiful sound, when treated right. Some of my fondest memories were born while spending time with musically-inclined people.
One particular night stands out for me: not too long ago after a lovely evening out imbibing with friends, the group of us headed back the dwelling of a lovely couple residing in Toronto’s Kensington Market neighbourhood. The first thing I saw upon entry was a beautiful ukulele hung on the wall, an acoustic guitar displayed in a holder in the corner, and a set of hand drums perching nearby. I went over to the ukulele and picked it up. The owner of the abode’s eyes lit up as he watched me, and he grabbed the acoustic guitar. He then said to me “Do you know this one?” and began playing one of my favourite songs ever – so I started to sing. I handed the ukulele to someone else and they joined in, playing the song from memory. Another friend picked up the hand drums, and out of nowhere a musical shaker with metal beads appeared and was included in the melody. This was shaping up to be a beautiful jam session, with everyone playing a part. We completed the song and then looked around the room at each other with huge goofy grins on our faces.
I’ve not often felt the kind of joy ran though me on that beautiful night.