I can affirm –to a degree- that my identity is constantly becoming. I can see that my identity is informed (I like this word better than "constructed") by social plays, rituals, and other interactions. Many of these interactions involve music at some level.
Often I find myself listening to music that seems to be foreign –representative of the other. I am drawn in by the new-ness of the sound; the music sounds so innovative to my ears. But my attraction doesn’t seem to be based on "other-ness" alone. There is also a sense of familiarity; I quickly identify with the composers/performers of the music. And this familiarity grows. And so does the sense of "other-ness". I am constantly discovering commonalities and differences as I continue to respond to the music I listen to.
I don’t know what music is "mine" per say. No type of music seems to be "mine" when I first hear it. But after I get to know it a little I find a piece of myself seems to be transplanted in the music, while a bit of the music gets grafted in me. And so, my identity changes, if only a little.
I do find that after having conversations with many different "types" of music, the initial feeling of being "other" to the music becomes less of a hurdle. The horizon of my music seems to have expanded. And when I hear music that falls comfortably in my horizon I find myself somewhat more relaxed, as I would in the presence of familiar faces. But even in the presence of the familiar I am often surprised, just as I am when a friend reveals a piece of history or personality trait that before was hidden. This seems to be one of the joys of music: to experience a presence that is both familiar and foreign, offering both security and challenges.
