I’ve recently come to the realization that I’m a little bit OCD. For example, my current obsession these days is anything Claude Debussy — and the OCD part of me watches videos of his pieces over and over and over again. This piece in particular, Clair de Lune — which I’m certain that many of you are only aware of due to the immensely popular post-crime fountain scene in Ocean’s Eleven — is definitely one of my favorites, though Reverie ultimately takes the taco, in my opinion. Something about his pieces conjure up this intensely romantic part of me; my heart swoons, I smile, the crinkles around my eyes, well, crinkle, and there are even times when I experience goose bumps.
[The cheese-factor in this post is at its all time high right now, but I don’t care.]
I love that music has this kind of an impact on us. That it can take you to places you’ve never been before, make you remember things you’ve long forgotten, make you daydream to a place and time somewhere in the future. It can remind you of who you were, or where you want to go, it can take you back. With Clair de Lune, I envision my future self, sitting in a cafe in Paris, wearing a beret, reading a book, sipping on a cappuccino, people-watching. I’m alone, yet I’m totally content, in the moment, appreciative that I’ve been given that exact slice of simple happiness in that very moment.
With Reverie, I picture myself slowly walking down the aisle in a brightly lit beautiful church. [Yep, I know, I know — how can I envision myself as a bride when there are currently no groom candidates? Whatever. A girl can dream.] More than anything, his pieces remind me of my father, for when I was growing up, there was always music playing in the house, though it wasn’t just Debussy. He played Liszt, Brahms, Haydn, Mahler, Pachelbel, Wagner, Rachmaninov, Chopin, Dvorak, and Gershwin, among others. To this day, I’m not entirely certain that my father actively knew what he was providing for us kids when he would put these artists on the record player, but as an adult, I look back on that subtlety of my childhood as something so special.