The Power of Music

Music - the universal language, expressed beautifully by Ji-Hae Park. I will let her tell her story in her own beautiful way. It's a story of the power of music.

 

Reading and writing are my passions, but very close behind is music. It does all the things that reading and writing do, without a word. It carries us away. It takes us back in time or to a future that we dream of. It takes us deep within ourselves and beyond ourselves. It expresses our sorrow and our joy. It's the expression of our hearts. It unites us regardless of who we are, where we are from, or what our journey has been. It unites us as human beings that share the same emotions.

The following video is another of Ji-Hae Park. In this one she performs some gospel music. I don't think it matters that the words that go with the music are religious, you don't know that just from watching the video. What you do know from watching the video, is that the music is so very important to her. Her passion, her connection with the music is obvious, and contagious.

"You don't have a soul. You are a soul". - C. S. Lewis

Music touched the soul of Ji-Hae Park. Such is the power of music. 

Enjoy.

Horror and Love Stories?

How is it that I enjoy:

"Shirtless and stretched over his guitar, Gavin scribbled some notes on a page lying on the coffee table before him. His tattoos cast a vague blue hue under the weak light penetrating the windows. The sexy as hell bed head got her heart chugging. To think she had a hand in taming that wild hair into something a tad softer. She beamed.

His tanned toes spread and dug into the carpet, gripping its short nap. With his navy cargo shorts bunched just above his knees, which were bent at a perfect right angle, he looked pensive. Vulnerable. Here was the Gavin Cassidy no one else knew. Not the rock star or Sentinel. Her Gavin.

He dropped the pencil on the table and snapped the guitar pick from his lips as the digits on his left hand found their places along the frets. Strumming with his right, he closed his eyes. His fingers worked their magic. His face remained placid through the poignant melody" 

as well as

"The man with black hair leaned down towards him again, holding the axe blade before him as if measuring the center of his breath. The moonlight played upon the blade of the axe, reflecting light up upon his grim countenance. Charlie saw the face of death and it was horrible to behold. His heart stopped in his dream, his eyes locked with his maker who was Caleb, who raised the axe high above his head in the cruel moonlight.

For an instant, time ceased its merciless infinite countdown, and then the blood came in torrents. A deluge and the dream drowned and everything became nothing, but slow dark peace, much like sleep".