One card a week 34

english-challenge

Life is a song. It’s an epic one, the kind of song the old people used to sang at night time, during the strongest winters. A song full of heros, adventures, betrayals, strong and lasting friendships, love, with a spark of magic here and then. Nordic people called them saga, others called them ballads, chansons… Depending on the mood of the bard, it could be sad or happy, hopeful or full of despair. And some of them reached us, through the veil of legends.

We all have our song to sing. We are the one making it sad or happy, strong or haunting, full of adventures or just made of a refrain sung again and again.

I am happy my song is epic. I even wish sometimes I was living 500 years ago to sing it. But it’s mine only, and I am grateful to be able to sing it to the wind sometimes, or to my cat, who witnessed most of it in silence, peacefully, caring for my feelings and helping me to put them into words.

Then I realise that I don’t write it as it comes. I am busy dancing it, most of the time. Then come the times of sadness, of loneliness (which I learned to enjoy, even if…. well, it’s still loneliness), and words come to my mind.

I feel the same about music. Most of the time, what watches my attention is the rythm, the music the atmosphere of it. Don’t get me wrong, I am really talking about dancing in the middle of my living room and enjoying it. Music catches my attention, talks to my body and maes me feel good, really good. I am lucky to be really ecclectic when it comes to music. I enjoy indie rock, as well as classic music, celtic music, ambient music, folk music, medieval music, tribal music, blues, jazz, even a bit of pop now and then. Aand I listen to it A LOT. I see my playlists as the soundtrack of my life, of my own song. I can’t live without it. If I can’t listen to some then I grab my alto recorder and make some, or I sing.

Then come lyrics. If music catches my soul, lyrics talk to it. I can’t listen to a meaningless song. (With the exception of classical music, but it’s different: with classical music, notes are words… ). I realised that when I am speechless (which happens, not often, but it does), I tend to put some song to express what I feel. And I know that when I need it, lyrics can help me express my deepest feelings into words. Like I said, my life is a soundtrack. I can listen to a same song over and over again till I am done with what needed to be said, then switch to another one, completely different, to celebrate, and dance.

I need this vibration, I need this connection, I need this release.

And you, what is your life’s music?

So here is your challenge:


One card a week 34

Quote: « When you’re happy, you enjoy the music. When you’re sad, you understand the lyrics.”

Motif: spangle

 


Here are the rules of the challenge:

  • Each thursday, I’ll give you a quote and a pattern to play with. You can use both, you can use only one of them, it’s up to you.
  • You have till the next wednesday to make your card and share it with us in the facebook group (just ask to be added, and I will open the doors wide open to you )
  • The goal of this challenge it just to offer yourself a time to have fun with pens and cards, to ponder on words, to enjoy a ME time. We tend to forget about ourselves so easily! And sharing is such a beautiful thing to experiment in our life!

 

And here is my card

I have decided to add a bonus picture now and then in my challenge, just for the pleasure to share.

Here is one taken this morning, on my way to school (school starts in a little bit of a week from now, but there are things that needed tall my furniture, and get everything ready for the kids). Anyway, I pass nearby a lake twice a day, and rarely stops. It’s ony a 5 minutes detour, in fact. This morning I decided to stop, and to enjoy walking on the grass, on this perfect morning. I loved it so much that I think it will be part of my school days morning rituals: stopping by the lake, enjoying the landscape and just take deep peaceful breathes before going into my tornado day.

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