Once upon a time there was an ocean - and nothing else. Nobody was talking or walking around, because there was no ground to walk on and no air to let any words be heard. There were no fish in the water yet, only seaweed, plankton and bacteria. Around that time, deep in the darkness of an endless ocean, the very first symphony was in motion. There was noone to hear it and noone who wrote it. But every little piece of matter, every molecule was constantly in motion, causing little waves of energy to travel throughout the ocean.
The symphony is still playing and has been playing on since the very beginning, together with a collection of amazing works that have never been heard. Now we are able to perceive it, but we still choose not to listen. That thought depressed me, so I went outside into the rain, sat down underneath a tree and listened. I heard the sounds of cars and motorbikes, the song of birds, the cheering of kids, but mostly I heard the percussion of the rain, drumming down over the ground. And I heard my thoughts... neverending arguments, melodies, competitions, fights, suggestions, questions, answers, doubts, drums, horns, harmonies and stories.
I went back inside and made some coffee. Heard every sip I took, swallowing, feeling the warmth. I wonder if anything needs to be written at all.... everybody is singing, writing, yelling, producing and shouting at a potential audience to look at them.... but does this music need to be written? Is it necessary? Or is it enough to just listen?
Maybe we should all ask ourselves this question before we start writing symphonies, fat beats, film scores, songs...