Music is my religion.
Jimi Hendrix
I’m a Melophile, I freely admit it.
Not an Audiophile, uber-particular about the sound quality of music. I have a brother-in-law who is an audiophile, he collects jazz cd’s (but not Smooth Jazz sadly), always remarking about the quality and purity of the sound. Me, I grew up listening to Jack Cullen late at night on AM radio, whistles and pops included at no extra cost. Or show tunes on Reader’s Digest collections that came in the mail – on an ancient RCA hifi.
No, I am definitely a melophile, the first few bars of a song eliciting emotions that are hard to describe – images, memories, ideas, dreams – all rolled together and bathed in a certain hue. Professor Campbell (Lucy to those of us who know her) tells me this is a form of synesthesia, the melding of two senses into one. My son and hers have that, days of the week on the calendar appearing in distinct colours. It is kind of cool actually; give my son any date in history and he can instantly tell you what day of the week it was (and is about 99.9999% accurate!).
I see music in colour and vice versa, a grey day instantly bringing a song into my head, not the same song every time but a song that pops out needing to be sung (I sing a lot around the house). It probably drives the neighbours nuts, or at least to wondering about my sanity. It gets even more interesting when I am creating art on my computer. To the casual observer they are just deep hued landscapes (ergo my old website – Digital Twilight) but to me they are the representation of a song I am hearing in my head.
The music, the colours, the emotions that go with them create a richness and peace in my life. But mostly it is the music.
Yes, I am definitely a melophile.