iPod Fans

When I was small my parents gave me a transistor radio.

I was enthralled.  I could choose whatever I wanted to listen to - and hide it under my pillow.   I would go to sleep listening to opera (which nobody else liked).

When the walkman appeared I got one for Christmas.  Rapture!  I went crazy making my own tapes - pirated from "American Top 40".  Researching one week - standing by with finger on the 'record' button on the big stereo the following week to get the elusive song I needed.  I was on top of it and sick of it by the time it hit our regular airwaves.

The discovery of headphones was magnificent to me.  A private world - as loud as you like it, with the kind of music nobody else wanted to hear.....

When I moved out of home and got a stereo of my own - the walkman was still present - my companion on long train trips.  The soundtrack to my commuting allowing me to wallow in despair or happiness presented to music.  At some point it stopped.  The real world seeped in.  Quiet was nice.

As a mother, my ears are one of my tools - peeled - waiting for a thud, a cry, a telltale sound that something is wrong, or right.  There in a second in case of disaster or to be part of a special moment that needs to be noticed immediately.

We have no stereo.  Music is listened to in the car - or on my computer when I paint.  The rest of the time my ears are desperately at attention.

I have seen ipods of course - fondled them in shops, noted how marvellous, shiny and compact they are.  Coveted them.  Considered enfolding myself in headphones again and decided I couldn't be that selfish.  They cost money - they are exclusionary.  Maybe later.

My dear friends, with memories of how much I love music and dancing bought me one for my last birthday and I still hadn't take it out of the box.  Too precious.  Pandora's box.

Last night I opened it - loaded it up, Put the headphones on and sank in while painting.  It was like an explosion of sorts.  All the subtleties of beautifully produced songs were apparent.  Moving from one ear to the other, tiny background noises that added in indefinable ways to the meaning of the words and sounds were expressed and absorbed.

It was a returning to self of plague proportions.

Painting with headphones on was a beautiful, selfish, marvellous experience.  I'll be doing that again often.  I'm in love......