Turning around and around...

It's been an wistful sort of experience sifting through the music I've accumulated over the last dozen years (such a long time, such a very long time). I didn't count all the cd's I own, but I'd hazard I there were approximately 270 albums, of which I've chosen to discard about thirty or forty - most of those were impulse purchases I later discovered I didn't much care for. Looking at the remainder and trying to group them into some semblance of order it appears that my tastes are even more eclectic than I'd have hazarded. Not necessarily in a good way, but that I'm not going to worry over that too much.

It was a quietly emotional experience handling each cd (wrenching them from their translucent acrylic homes only to bury them in the anonymous black cases where they shall live out the rest of their days in darkness. Don't even get me started on those I'm consigning to the charity shop - I may never forgive myself), recalling where I was when I bought each of them (more easily done than you might imagine - I kept all the receipts in the cases), and what events were going on in my life at the time. A swell of happy remembrances, tainted by the occasional pang of regret or loneliness - twelve years worth of memories with the score of my life playing quietly in the background. Even now the air remains thick with the heavy musk of nostalgia. There's a chart of my life tangled in there, describing how my life has changed over the years, and of course, how I've changed - if only I could work out how to read it. Change is something I don't always perceive until it's pointed out to me - my tendency is to imagine myself resolutely constant in the swirling sea of chaos that everyone else inhabits. Stuff and nonsense of course, but our perceptions of ourselves (should be myself, really, but I'm dragging you all down with me) aren't always grounded in reality.

Perhaps quite naturally, after glancing at so many cd's I've had numerous songs running through my head over the last few days. Curiously, the one that's come to the fore most often is "Doll On A Music Box" from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (the least of the horrors that lurk amongst my collection I assure you). It's a sad little tale of longing, which may or may not be entirely appropriate for the mood I'm in at the moment...