Music Collage

At a session one evening, we did something called a Music Collage. The process involves participants choosing a theme, actively listening to a recorded piece of music, selecting images from a range of pictures to fit the theme, depending on how they interpret and think about it, and sharing which aspects of their collage stood out the most for them.

The theme we chose was Movement vs Stillness, and the music selected was Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2, 1st movement.

“The person on the wheelchair… because it seems like he is still, but at the same time I realised the wheelchair is also about movement.. and I realise… it’s all about perspective. There is no full movement or full stillness. It is all how you look at it.”

“I feel that my collage represents my… character. Like, sometimes I can be really active and loud and outgoing, but other times I will just be quiet and still. So there is no picture that stands out for me.”

“I feel like the music was describing something bad about to happen. So I chose the picture of this crab… the music is describing the journey of the crab as it’s about to be killed and cooked and eaten… from movement to stillness..”

Through their insights and sharing, I have got to know this group of people over the past 2 months. Their personalities, sense of humour, quirks and what means the most to them. And with the time that has flown by, we are also on the brink of parting ways. It has been a blessing to be with them on this journey, one I will always be thankful for.

The Jacaranda Petal

It was a day for pictures. The sky had just the right amount of clouds. The air was crisp and fresh. The temperature was not too warm. It was, in all aspects, a perfect late spring day.

A single jacaranda petal on the bridge’s ledge. So beautiful it made my heart race with the excitement of capturing it on camera.

In 5 seconds, the focus was adjusted, aperture fixed, shutter pressed. Picture captured. The single petal on the bridge. Then the picture reviewed, to make sure I had gotten it right.

2 seconds after I had taken the picture, I looked up from the camera. I realised, with a start, that the petal was gone. A gust of wind had come, and it floated down to the river below, joining the other petals, bobbing along the banks.

The moment was gone.

In a moment of insight, I wondered if, in my efforts to capture the “perfect” picture of the petal, I had sacrificed experiencing the essence and beauty of the moment, getting caught up with camera settings and technicalities instead.

What I have now is only a replica of that moment, a reminder of the moment I missed.

How many times in life do we chase after what we feel are the bigger things, the larger goals, the seemingly more important things, only to realise that we have missed what we had right in front of us?

The little things. Always go back to the little things.