when music makes me loose control

Experiencing orchestra music live was usually just another way to open myself up to more music, and to observe musicians in action; but when the Minnesota Orchestra performed my favorite piece, Ravel’s "Daphnis et Chloe", I had a previous connection with the music. I had learned to play the piece, read about it and listened to recordings of it. From triangle ding to tuba rumble, I was familiar with it. When the woodwinds trickle in at the beginning I could watch the clarinets pick up where the flutes left off while I heard the same continuous sound. Experiencing Daphnis live was more of a trick for the ears. It had never occurred to me that violins made those chirping harmonics at the beginning. I was so accustomed to simply hearing those bird sounds, that seeing a violinist create them added a sense of wonder to what I was experiencing. Watching the bassists lean with anticipation over their instruments before the flute solo, I swear my heart almost began beating parallel to each of their plucks.
Before this concert I had a specific emotion in my mind each time I heard the piece. Experiencing the piece in person was like turning that emotion into incense and breathing it in, or creating a juicy piece of fruit and letting in run down my chin. If I were talented enough, I think I could even make a blanket out of it and cuddle to that specific emotion. I got slutty with Daphnis et Chloe that night sitting with hundreds of others in orchestra hall, and felt no shame. By the end I felt as though I were shaking, and all I could do was sit, eyes glazed over, in bliss. I did feel used, but didn't mind.
I want live music to make me lose control. If I feel as though the musical idea I have in my head has been lathered all over my body, the performance has been more than successful.


(Speaking of, Les Yeux Noirs definitely achieved that, and I was not even familiar with their music. LKJHSDLIFSD&**&IRYWEIUFYD*TUGHJ!!!!!!!! Les Yeux Noirs has turned me gypsy.)