[Unstagram] The Role of Mood, the Emotion of Sound

A Pronoun That Embraces Countless Nouns and Adjectives, Not Just Good or Bad Moods
Music, Like Mood, Holds Stories of Emotions Beyond Simple Dichotomies

The word "gibun" (mood or feeling) is said to be of Japanese origin. Journalist Lee Byungchul once wrote that gibun is a dichotomous noun, referring to a state that is either good or bad, which leads people to believe that there are no other states of gibun ("Uncomfortable Microhistory for the Mother Tongue," Millennium of Imagination). However, I think it is different when gibun does not determine its own state but rather serves as a vessel that holds countless adjectives. For example, expressions like "feeling as if flying," "feeling like the boss of the neighborhood," or "feeling of walking through a grassy field with the gentle spring breeze at your back." Gibun is not limited to the concepts of good or bad; it is like a pronoun that borrows and embraces many nouns and adjectives, becoming the name of a relationship that connects the states of countless visible and invisible things.

The day after the typhoon passed, a butterfly is fluttering over a crown daisy (천인국, Cheoninkgo) blooming by the Han River. (Seoul, 2005) Photo by Huh Younghan

I created a playlist of songs that are like gentle ripples, quiet enough not to disturb one's gibun. While music can never be completely unrelated to one's mood, there are times when we need calm, leisurely music that does not stir up emotional turbulence. Like a slow breeze, or the branches of broadleaf trees swaying in such a wind, songs and performances that flow at their own unhurried pace rarely become tiresome. Sounds can evoke emotions such as sadness, liveliness, beauty, or poignancy. It is not so much that the sounds themselves possess emotion, but rather that the feelings people experience while listening become the emotions of the sound, and those emotions appear differently to each person. Emotions, like faces, carry the traces of years and the paths we have walked. Although I am well aware of the appeal of poignant minor keys and powerful vocal performances, I find it difficult to approach them often. Listening to music is similar to carving a path through the fragments and lumps of reality that fill our thoughts. The path may be a wide, straight road or a narrow trail. The more space we clear and organize in our minds, the more we can enjoy a comfortable or pleasant gibun, experiencing a comforting walk as long as the music continues. Even if the music does not directly offer consolation or encouragement, it can sometimes take us somewhere other than here, or breathe fresh air into a blocked channel of thought.

Music and mood lie differently or together like blades of grass before the wind. (Jeju Island, 2016) Photo by Huh Younghan

There are moments when thoughts about things that the song neither teaches nor mentions suddenly settle atop the music. As I drift and linger somewhere between the languid, drowsy interlude and the second verse, I sometimes find myself imagining a scene with a butterfly fluttering before my eyes. And sometimes, an old photograph suddenly comes to mind. However, this is a story about the influence of music on mood and emotion. Like gibun, music cannot be divided simply into good or bad.