Mary J. Blige †The Magic of Share My World :: Music

Mary J. Blige – The Magic of Share My World Every explorer names his island Formosa, beautiful. To him it is beautiful because, being first, he has access to it and can see it for what it is. But to no one else is it ever as beautiful- except the rare man who manages to recover it, who knows that it has to be recovered.   -Walker Percy, The Loss of the Creature An island. Hmmm, my island. My island on which I will do nothing but sit and admire the beauty and serenity of nature at work around me. A catch. One disc. One piece of music so wonderful, so captivating, that I will listen to it for hours upon end. My disc will signify life- and love. It will be a window to the complex world of who I am. To me it will represent who, and what, I have left behind: the things which I value and care deeply about. In my life, that it is love. Above all else, love is what makes my world go 'round. Joy, anticipation, excitement, longing, sadness, and pain: I want to be able to experience these essential feelings until the day I die. Hardships and bliss alike. It sounds impossible, I know. But there is a disc. There is an artist who captures all of this and a little more in her music. Should I be left on a desert island, Mary J. Blige and her album Share My World are what I would choose to take with me. Stand on my shoulders for a little while. See Mary J. through my untrained, childish eyes. Let her be discovered by you, vicariously through me. I was probably only twelve years old when it started, a time when bike riding and rolling your jeans were the "cool" thing to do. I was at an impressionable age, and I was trying to grow up. I wanted to be just like all the high school girls who went racing through my neighborhood in their sporty little cars, music blaring from the windows. On that particular afternoon, I was sitting in the grass next to my mailbox waiting for my friend in the next neighborhood to ride over. I heard the bass first. I didn't see anything yet- but I heard, far off, a distinct beat. I liked it already. As the noise got closer, I realized it was a song. Mary J. Blige – The Magic of Share My World :: Music Mary J. Blige – The Magic of Share My World Every explorer names his island Formosa, beautiful. To him it is beautiful because, being first, he has access to it and can see it for what it is. But to no one else is it ever as beautiful- except the rare man who manages to recover it, who knows that it has to be recovered.   -Walker Percy, The Loss of the Creature An island. Hmmm, my island. My island on which I will do nothing but sit and admire the beauty and serenity of nature at work around me. A catch. One disc. One piece of music so wonderful, so captivating, that I will listen to it for hours upon end. My disc will signify life- and love. It will be a window to the complex world of who I am. To me it will represent who, and what, I have left behind: the things which I value and care deeply about. In my life, that it is love. Above all else, love is what makes my world go 'round. Joy, anticipation, excitement, longing, sadness, and pain: I want to be able to experience these essential feelings until the day I die. Hardships and bliss alike. It sounds impossible, I know. But there is a disc. There is an artist who captures all of this and a little more in her music. Should I be left on a desert island, Mary J. Blige and her album Share My World are what I would choose to take with me. Stand on my shoulders for a little while. See Mary J. through my untrained, childish eyes. Let her be discovered by you, vicariously through me. I was probably only twelve years old when it started, a time when bike riding and rolling your jeans were the "cool" thing to do. I was at an impressionable age, and I was trying to grow up. I wanted to be just like all the high school girls who went racing through my neighborhood in their sporty little cars, music blaring from the windows. On that particular afternoon, I was sitting in the grass next to my mailbox waiting for my friend in the next neighborhood to ride over. I heard the bass first. I didn't see anything yet- but I heard, far off, a distinct beat. I liked it already. As the noise got closer, I realized it was a song.