I re-realized something today: I love to feel music.
Okay, I confess. I'm an audiophile. It's true. When I grow up and get a home and a job, I'm going to buy real sound equipment. I'm going to install high-quality speakers in my home, and turn off the lights and listen to Rachmaninoff's Vespers in the darkness in my living room. I'm going to install a sub-woofer that can rattle the windowpanes.
Tonight I listened to Daniel play the piano, stretched out on the floor (I was stretched out, not him, silly!) We were in an old house, with a loud piano and fairly good acoustics, without padded walls and industrial carpet to dull the sound. It was wonderful to feel the notes resonate through the floorboards and inside my lungs, and throughout my whole body. It's a very different experience from my normal music-listening habits. In this world of MP3s and electronic music played on tinny speakers, it's a real joy to hear music live--to feel it, to let its vibrations course through me. There was an intimacy, a realness to the experience that left me hungry for more. It was like the difference between talking to your Dad on the phone and leaning up against him, feeling the vibrations of his voice in his chest.
Speaking of which, I can't wait to go home.