Once in a Blue Mood

I’ve always appreciated blue. It is calming, soothing, cold, compelling … beautiful beyond words. It is the color of the heavens and the seas. It is the color of the water that is the closest element to my heart. It is the color I feel the most home when surrounded by.

Consequently, I fall in love with any song that’s blue.

When I was in college, I used to discuss with a friend a state that I called the “blue mood.” It was when I wanted to listen to nothing but blue songs, blue music, blue lyrics, blue voices. Of course, no such thing exists. Most songs include at least one color along with blue. But I called it the blue mood anyway. One of the bluest songs I’ve ever heard is Coldplay’s A Sky Full of Star, and one of the bluest pieces of music is Hans Zimmer’s Time, a soundtrack of Inception.

But recently, I was introduced to this whole new level of blueness where songs are concerned. It’s called The Sea (Symphonic Version), by HAEVN, but the title is not why it’s blue. It’s because when tens of violins and cellos combine, their sounds start to get thicker, showing more solidarity, and instead of thin lines—mostly yellowish—their united sound turns into blue waves, and whenever the tune stops, it’s because the waves have crashed on rocks, brushing them gently. Brushing my mind gently.

This song is practically the definition of blue music to me, and though I’ve become more open to many colors in music that I wasn’t a great fan of before, it’s still lovely to know that something so soothing and blue exists. And truly, I must thank the friend who introduced me to it a million times for this heavenly piece of art. With the singer’s dark bluish gray voice, the gentle crests and troughs of the waves in the background, and the haunting night sky lyrics, this has easily become one of my favorite songs.

Musicians, wherever you are … bless your hearts.

July 11th, 2019