GATHERING DUST

©CherieElainePhotography2022

I love music. I love playing instruments. But now, I don't play. I have two guitars and a violin hanging on the wall by the entry to my living room so that I see them and they can get my attention every time I walk by. I have a music stand in the corner of my living room so that it stares at me, inviting me to play. 

But they are all gathering dust. 

My friend Andy passed away in July at the age of 90. He never let the music gather dust. He played piano every single morning at 9:30. He filled our halls with music and joy. He played everything by ear. He played with some of the best western cowboy bands of all time. The music was so alive in him that he couldn't not play. 

Yesterday, watching the shadows dance across the music, I realized that dance is a result of music. Maybe this last year of crazy emotional and physical pain is the result of no music. 

When the wind gets knocked out of me, so does the music. The music hurts. I can't sing. I can't play. I can't even listen. Losing my son Jordan? No music. My best friend losing their two-year-old son? No music. Becoming an empty nester? No music. 

But somehow, the music always comes back. 

The wolves taking over my life the past 15 months? No music. The listening is returning. But the singing and playing? Not so much. 

My instruments are gathering dust. I am gathering dust. 

Covid killed my voice. I don't sing half as well as I once did. But what if I practiced until I could bring it back? My fingers are tired and sore and swollen and I need surgery on my left hand. But what if practicing could bring the strength back? 

What if watching the dance brings out the music instead of the other way around? Ohhhh.....that might be the start of a new song.....

The only thing in my life that has lasted longer than photography is music. It has outlasted marriage and child-rearing and jobs. It has given me joy, and comfort, and done the same for others. It's been my journal, the insight to my soul, the way I reach others. 

No more dust. It's time to pick those instruments up, the things that bring healing. It's time to reignite my soul. It's time to blow off the dust. its time to dance. 

I love you.

Cherie