Human beings walk, and they search. Whether within the confines of this ten mile radius called Billings, the pages of various texts, or all across the world; this is what we define as our lives. My sixteen years have only offered me few choice opportunities to practice my nomadic tendencies, and these excursions are delectable tastes of the greater world I have yet to find. Within our exploration, our paths diverge and meet and often align with one another. These often involve direct contact with music, or have been expressed by other artists under the same circumstances. The most significant parts of my life have occurred with this music in mind.
Disconnections often occur when people lack understanding of one another. Yet in my case, this relationship painfully continues after almost five years. A friend of mine carries herself much differently than I do. She flaunts an ego despite her crippling inner demons, and her lifestyle is not healthy. We played Borodin’s second quartet together, and the melody I played on my cello perfectly expresses how our relationship has been since. Floating, distant, yet beautiful and somehow correct on the surface. My better judgement has betrayed me, for I continue to desire to help and love her. Father John Misty portrays his disdain for his lover’s behavior in his tragic “Please Don’t Die,” yet feels a similar dependency to her that I do. While we grow more and more distant, my concern aches in the deepest regions of my heart and will not dissolve.
Much of my life is spent in cars where I travel from activity to activity, seeking fulfillment and a more impressive resume. I always have companions to fill the silence of the long drives with, and before I received my license, this was my father. We had never-ending conversations about music, and we could never cease to marvel at Mick Jagger’s vocal prowess in “Moonlight Mile.” I dreaded I would lose my father’s companionship when I drove myself to my scheduled venues, yet my best friend often accompanies me in my endeavors. One night we awaited the end of my sister’s play rehearsal, and we gazed at the stars while listening to the layered and peaceful melody of Radiohead’s “Let Down.” We talked about the beauty in our lives, and this created a euphoric atmosphere I strive to achieve once more.
While I often yearn to travel to different lands and discover new beauty, I spend most Saturday nights dormant at Smiling Dog Records. One night, a local band called Silverbow Society played their single “Halves Of A Map,” and the entire crowd united in joy. That night we danced, and we neglected our responsibilities, our futures, and the confinement of our small town. That night we danced, and I felt bliss and love. Music is not only a large part of my life, but it brings me happiness. I hope I can achieve moments like the mosh pit at Smiling Dog again in the future.
Emily Tschetter is a student at Billings Senior High, and frequently embarks on awesome adventures with her family and friends. She is a musician who focuses mainly on cello, and she writes in her freetime as well as researches and writes for her forensics team. She participates on the teen council for Planned Parenthood, and she is actively involved in Moms/Students Demand Action for Gun Sense She was also one of the main organizers of the Billings March For Our Lives. She loves to travel and experience new things, and she’s having a pretty great time.