Felt very English today, I suppose on account of the football. In my version of being English RVW counts for a lot, so I decided to treat myself to a full play-through of The Pilgrim's Progress. Circumstances were such that I was able to listen with full, rapt attention and, my goodness, the impact of the music was more powerful than I've ever known it. Almost unbearably poignant at times, though essentially comforting.
A few days ago I'd jotted a question for myself, in relation to some recent aural experiences: Why does listening to excellent music make the world more real to me? When I wrote it I'm not quite sure I really understood the question. Listening to RVW today I got it completely, though I have no idea what the answer is.
Great music transforms us, somehow, even if it's only in that moment we have become the music.
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