It's fair to say when you grow up with a Vox amp and a double bass in your bedroom there's always going to be something musical in your life.
Fast forward to marrying a bass player (how the hell did that happen!?) building a new house with its own recording studio--bedrooms, who really needs them? And it's no surprise that my youngest son spends a large proportion of his time with a guitar in his hand and my eldest can oftentimes be found on his piano.
I don't ever remember there being much in the way of silence in my home when I was young, everything was accompanied by music. Not much has changed in my life now, except everything is often accompanied by the same track, over and over and over again until my eyes roll. One of the pleasures of being married to a bass player, who also has a knack for producing songs in his own studio.
Why wouldn't I be writing romance about rockstars???
Back to the 'olden days' *cough* Even before the days of the walkman (remember them? huge, bulky contraptions that you had to wear with a strap over your shoulder, like a set of binoculars) I used to lie on the lounge floor with a set of headphones on, blotting out everything around me with sound. Ensconced in my own little world with the melodic sounds of any one of a number of my favourite musicians or bands at the time, I was transported away from the reality of my life into another time and place.
Years later, I discovered that booze, boys and drugs could do the same thing... but that's another post for another day. ;)
I had to lie down because the blessed headphones were heavy enough to compress the vertebrae in a growing neck. Tethered by a coiled lead to the stereo, a large towering beast of a thing that had two equally impressive speakers sat either side, I lost hours on that floor.
Hours I would gladly surrender again to the beauty of music, if only the days didn't disappear quite so quickly now.
Yours in love & gratitude,
PS: Pick up a free romance novel from me here