Vangelis

I've heard the news tonight: Vangelis sailed away.

It turns out that Vangelis is an artist whose work is quite special to me...

When I was a child, I didn't like music. I really didn't. One of the most boring times of my childhood was a classical music concert - ultimate agony. In a society where all "cultured" people are expected to enjoy classical music and perform an instrument, I was but a barbarian. I didn't listen to anything.

Then, one day, my mother's godmother, a terrifying person who led a secluded life in the countryside, surrounded by cats and watching TV while lying in a giant chair all day, gave us a few CDs. Why she had them, I had no clue and this will forever remain a mystery (people constantly escape the expectations we have of them, that is), and why she decided to get rid of them by giving them to us, is about as much a puzzle. But there was one whose cover was especially intriguing to me.

I didn't know what a synthesizer was. I had never heard of any of these artists. Music-wise, it looked immediately suspicious to my family. But that cover... It was too intriguing to me. So I snatched it away (no one wanted it so no one cared) and put it in my CD player. And this is how I discovered this song:

Not only did I discover this song, I also discovered that there was stuff I could love to listen to. That could transport me and make me see beyond the ordinary horizon of my imagination.

And so I listened to this CD, to this song in particular, over and over and over. I wrote stories (well, dumb kid stuff obviously) to go with these songs. I dreamed and dreamed and traveled through many realms of the mind, carried away by this song. I still listen to it to this day. I still own the CD. And the burst of light shown on that intriguing cover never failed to shine in my mind ever since.