A couple of times this week, on longer than usual bus trips, I've listened to gospel music, from Anonymous Four to Johnny Cash. Beautiful, mostly peaceful, all of it soul-touching stuff.
The melancholy of the music, most of it from the 19th century or earlier, was attractive in the literal sense of that word: I was drawn to its slightly sad, tender, and pensive mood. That may say something about my personality, but nothing striking.
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