Pepper shared the following quote with me from some thing she read that I admittedly haven't gotten around to reading yet (it'll happen... it hasn't even been 24 hours since she sent me the link):
As a delivery device for moments of inner emergency, no art form can approach the immediacy of popular song. A novel cannot assault you while you wait in line at the supermarket; a painting cannot reach out and turn your head as you walk on by; a poem’s feet cannot chase you down the street; a movie cannot screen itself. A song, though, can steal upon you in the dark, on a road, far from home, blow out your tires and leave you sobbing, in gratitude, at the wheel. All other art lives and dies in a medium that mandates we engage if we are to receive its gifts. Songs live in the air.
It's a great enough idea that I'm sure different parts will hit people differently, but the thing that really stuck out for me was the idea of a song "steal[ing] upon you in the dark". A song can come out of nowhere and hit you, big time. It seems like these are often sad songs, but not exclusively. I've had the same happen happily too.
So this week, I'd like to talk about stories of a time a song hit you, by surprise. What song. When and where were you, what were the emotions, how do you relate to that song now, have you ever captured that lightning in a bottle again, etc. I think I like this topic.