I enjoy music and something about a quality song in a minor key makes me smile.
I sing harmony. I long for the notes of dissonance where one sings strongly, moving against what seems as it should be; clawing at the melody so as not to lose the note and see the entire song unravel. I like the way my mind can hear the resolve, running against the grain of what I sing. I hear it, but I do not sing it too early.
When I listen, my ears tune in naturally to dissonance. I like way that the anticipation of “is it possible, can good come?” makes me want to hold my breath. To hope against all odds. To know that the dissonance in it’s chilling beauty will be resolved. When a composer writes in the perfect amount of musical trouble, the piece is all the more for it.
Tolkien writes of something similar in the Silmarillion. He tells of music – a glorious harmony, the union of many voices. An all encompassing song written before the start of time. In this song, one of discord creeps in. Attempting to go his own way, the voice of dissonance tries to sow in sour notes – to ruin the masterpiece. It cannot be done. The composer takes those notes of disdain and weaves a strain of music around them producing something of even more beauty than before.
So why then, I ask, in the middle of life when discord arises, when dissonance is the note on my tongue, do I not actively seek out in my mind’s eye, the glorious resolve that is but a breath away?