When I saw that today’s Indie Travel Project prompt was about travel and music, I knew I had to respond.
Here’s why: I don’t know the first thing about music, but I know what moves me, both literally and figuratively.
To prep for this post, I turned on some Robert Miles and went for a long walk, letting my feet move to the beat of the music. I still listen to music on a Zune, so I held the monster of an MP3 player in one hand and my water bottle in the other as I made my way past the mommy play date at the park, the pair of guys who fly kites every morning, a man laying in the grass while his puppy ran laps over him.
I let the hypnotic rhythm of “Children” lead me, just like I often let music lead me when I travel.
I don’t know the first thing about music. I am a pop culture failure, but I know what I like, and I let that gut reaction make decisions for me. In fact, more than television shows, books or other people’s stories, music inspires me to travel.
There is something about certain beats, sounds, emotions and strength engrained in particular types of music that moves me. When I listen to Celtic music, elecetronica, ambient, Peruvian flutes or Asian tunes, I literally feel something that pushes me forward. I ache to move, to dance, to act, to be a part of the music.
To write this post, I turned on my Caravane radio station on Pandora. How many of you can say you’re listening to Scottish techno fusion right now?
I know nothing about it, and yet I’m compelled to listen. Just like when I travel, I have no choice but to be in the moment.