A familiar song begins playing, and before the first verse is over, you are somewhere else entirely.
You may remember a long-ago kitchen, a summer road trip, a school hall or the person who first introduced you to that music. The memory arrives with details you had not thought about for years.
The role of music, books and art in shaping your identity can be seen in these moments, when something created by another person becomes closely tied to your own memories, values, relationships and sense of self.
The things we love become part of our story
Music, books and art may begin as entertainment, decoration or curiosity. Over time, they can become part of the way we understand our lives.
A song can mark a friendship or a particular stage of adulthood. A novel can offer language for something you had felt but never expressed. A painting, carving, photograph or handmade object can remind you of a place, a person or a way of seeing the world.
These connections are deeply personal.
Two people may hear the same piece of music and remember completely different things. One may think of a joyful family gathering, while another recalls a quiet drive through unfamiliar countryside.
A book that changed one person’s outlook may leave someone else unmoved. An artwork that seems simple to a visitor may hold years of family memory for the person who lives with it.
The meaning does not sit entirely inside the song, story or image. It also comes from the life you have brought to it.
Music can hold the atmosphere of a time
Music often becomes attached to periods of life without anyone deliberately deciding that it should.
A song may remind you of your first flat, weekend dances, long drives, school holidays or evenings spent cooking with someone close. You may remember not only the melody, but where you were standing and who was beside you.
Some music is connected to shared occasions. Other pieces belong to private moments that nobody else would recognise as important.
You might have listened to the same album while painting a room, settling a baby or travelling to work. Perhaps a particular song played repeatedly during a summer when life was changing.
Later, hearing it again can bring back the feeling of that time.
This can be an enjoyable starting point for conversation. Instead of asking someone to describe an entire decade, play a song they loved and ask:
“Where does this take you?”
The answer may open into stories about clothes, friendships, homes, vehicles, jobs and family life.
The music you choose can reveal different sides of you
People are not always known for the full range of music they enjoy.
A quiet person may love lively dance music. Someone known for traditional tastes may have a surprising fondness for something unconventional. A person who rarely speaks about emotion may connect deeply with songs that express tenderness, longing or hope.
Sharing your favourite music can reveal parts of your identity that do not always appear in everyday conversation.
You might explain why a certain song matters, rather than simply naming it.
Perhaps it reminds you of feeling independent for the first time. It may represent a friendship, a place or a version of yourself that still feels familiar.
You could create a simple list of songs connected to different parts of your life:
- A song from childhood
- Music associated with leaving home
- Something played during family gatherings
- A piece connected to a close friendship
- A song that still lifts your mood
- Music that feels most like you
The list does not need to be ranked or complete. Its value lies in the stories beside the titles.
Books can become companions across different stages
Some books are read once and forgotten. Others remain in the mind for decades.
A story may be connected to the person who recommended it, the place where you read it or the period of life in which you needed exactly that kind of escape.
Books can introduce unfamiliar lives and ideas, but they can also help readers recognise their own experiences. A character’s humour, independence, uncertainty or determination may feel familiar. A setting may resemble somewhere you have known. A line of thought may stay with you long after the plot has faded.
The books that shape identity are not necessarily serious or widely admired.
A childhood adventure story may have encouraged a lasting love of travel. A gardening book may be linked to years spent creating a home. A collection of poems may have offered words for experiences that were otherwise difficult to describe.
Even a well-used cookbook can tell a story about hospitality, family routines and the meals that gathered people together.
The books on your shelves tell only part of the story
A personal library can reveal interests, but the books themselves do not always explain why they matter.
A worn paperback may be more meaningful than a beautiful volume because it travelled with you through several homes. A book with notes in the margin may preserve your thoughts from an earlier stage of life.
You might have books kept because of who gave them to you. Others may remain because they remind you of a particular interest, ambition or period of discovery.
Take one book from your shelf and ask:
- When did I first read this?
- Who introduced it to me?
- What was happening in my life then?
- Which part stayed with me?
- Does it still feel important for the same reason?
Writing a short note inside a personal notebook can preserve the connection without turning the exercise into a catalogue.
The point is not to explain the book itself. It is to record the place it holds in your own story.
Art can shape the feeling of a home
Art does not need to hang in a gallery to matter.
It may be a framed print, a family photograph, a woven piece, a carving, a ceramic bowl, a child’s drawing or something made by a friend. Its importance can come from beauty, memory, place or the relationship behind it.
The objects displayed in a home often reveal what the people living there want to keep close.
A landscape may recall a region that feels like home. A painting bought during a holiday may represent freedom or adventure. A handmade piece may bring the maker’s personality into the room.
Even where an object is placed can become part of its story. A picture that has hung beside the dining table for thirty years has witnessed countless meals and conversations. It may become familiar to the household in a way that goes beyond its original meaning.
When talking about an artwork, try moving beyond where it came from.
Ask what you notice in it, how it makes the room feel and why you have continued to live with it.
Creativity can reveal identity even without an audience
Making art can be just as meaningful as viewing it.
Painting, carving, knitting, sewing, photography, pottery, writing and other creative activities may offer ways to express patience, curiosity, humour or attention to detail.
The finished result does not need to be displayed or praised.
Someone may enjoy sketching because it encourages them to look closely. Another person may take photographs as a way of noticing changing light, family expressions or familiar landscapes. A person who works with fabric or wood may value the process of turning ordinary materials into something personal.
Creative work can also carry traces of different life stages.
An early photograph may show what caught your attention when you were younger. A collection of handmade items may reveal changing colours, skills or interests over many years.
Looking back at what you created can prompt useful questions:
“What was I trying to capture here?”
“What did I enjoy most about making this?”
“Which part still feels like me?”
Taste does not need to be impressive
People can become hesitant when talking about music, books or art because they worry that their preferences are not sophisticated enough.
They may apologise for enjoying popular songs, light reading or simple artwork. Others may stay quiet because they cannot explain why they like something.
No explanation is required for a preference to be genuine.
A song can matter because it makes you want to sing. A book can be loved because it is comforting. A picture can remain on the wall because its colours make the room feel warm.
Personal taste is not an examination.
It can also change. Music you once disliked may become connected to someone you love. A book that mattered deeply at 30 may feel less relevant at 70. An artwork bought casually may gain significance as it travels through several homes.
These changes are part of the story rather than evidence that your earlier taste was wrong.
Shared favourites can strengthen relationships
Music, books and art often create connections between people who might otherwise struggle to find a starting point.
A grandparent and grandchild may have different musical tastes but enjoy comparing the songs associated with important memories. Friends may exchange books because they know one another’s humour and interests. Family members may remember the same picture hanging in a childhood home.
These conversations do not need everyone to agree.
You can ask:
“What do you hear in this that I might be missing?”
Or:
“Which book has stayed with you longer than you expected?”
Curiosity matters more than persuading the other person to share your taste.
You may also discover that someone close to you connects a favourite song or picture with a memory you had forgotten. Shared works can become meeting points for different versions of the same family story.
Fictional illustration: Mere’s shelf of poetry
The following is a fictional illustration.
Mere’s grandchildren knew that she loved gardening, cooking and keeping the family organised. Few of them knew about the narrow shelf of poetry books in her bedroom.
The books had followed her through several homes. Some were heavily marked, while others contained dried leaves and old pieces of paper used as bookmarks.
One afternoon, her granddaughter asked why she kept them when she rarely seemed to read poetry.
Mere explained that she had read the books most often when she was younger and travelling away from home. Certain poems reminded her of landscapes, loneliness, confidence and the excitement of building an independent life.
She had not spoken much about that younger version of herself.
Together, they chose five poems that Mere still enjoyed. Rather than analysing them, Mere recorded a short memory about where she had first read each one and what it had meant at the time.
Her granddaughter came away understanding something new: the practical grandmother she knew had also been a young woman who loved words, unfamiliar places and long train journeys.
The books had not changed, but the story around them had finally been shared.
Create a personal culture map
A simple way to explore this part of your identity is to create a page divided into music, books and art.
Under each heading, add a few items that connect with your life.
For each one, write:
- When it became important
- Who or what it reminds you of
- The feeling or value you associate with it
- Whether it still matters in the same way
- One story you would enjoy sharing
You might add photographs of meaningful artworks, book covers from your own collection or handwritten song titles.
Keep the focus on personal memories rather than trying to assemble a definitive list of favourites.
This page can remain private or become a starting point for conversation with friends and whānau.
Five conversation starters
1. “Which song takes you straight back to another time?”
2. “What book has stayed with you, and why?”
3. “Is there a picture or handmade object that makes a place feel like home?”
4. “Which creative interest shows a side of you people may not always see?”
5. “What piece of music, writing or art would help someone understand you better?”
[CALL-TO-ACTION]
The things you return to say something about you
Music, books and art do not shape identity in one simple or predictable way.
They gather meaning through the places where you encountered them, the people who shared them and the stages of life they accompanied. A song can preserve the atmosphere of a summer. A book can hold the memory of a younger self. An artwork can make a room feel connected to home.
Sharing these connections allows others to see more than your list of favourites. It reveals your humour, curiosity, values, friendships and changing view of the world.
Begin with one song, one book or one object. Explain where it takes you and why it has remained.
The story behind what you love may say as much about you as the work itself.
Frequently Asked Questions
1. How can music become part of someone’s identity?
Music can become connected to important people, places, routines and stages of life. A song may recall family gatherings, a friendship or a period of independence. These personal associations give the music a meaning beyond its sound. Sharing the memory behind a favourite piece can reveal experiences and qualities that others may not know about.
2. What if I cannot explain why I like a particular song or artwork?
You do not need a formal explanation. Begin with how it makes you feel or what it reminds you of. You might enjoy its energy, colours, atmosphere or familiarity. A simple statement such as, “This always reminds me of summer evenings at home,” can communicate more than an elaborate description.
3. How can I record the books that have mattered to me?
Choose a few books rather than trying to list everything you have read. Write down when you encountered each one, who introduced it and what stayed with you. You might keep these notes in a notebook or beside a photograph of the book. Personal memories are more useful than detailed summaries of the plot.
4. Can ordinary household art be meaningful?
Yes. Meaningful art can include photographs, prints, handmade objects, children’s drawings and pieces created by friends or family. Its importance may come from the person who made it, the place it represents or the years it has spent in your home. Artistic or financial status is not what gives it personal value.
5. How can I share my favourite music with younger family members?
Choose a small number of songs and explain the memories connected to them. Ask younger family members what they hear in the music and invite them to share songs that matter to them. Comparing stories can be more enjoyable than expecting everyone to like the same style or agree about which music is best.
6. What if my tastes have changed over time?
Changing taste is a natural part of a life shaped by new experiences, relationships and interests. Something you once loved may no longer feel important, while a work you previously ignored may gain meaning. You can record both responses. The change itself may reveal how your priorities or circumstances have developed.
7. Do I need to keep every book or artwork connected to a memory?
No. You can preserve the story through a photograph or written note without keeping every physical item. Choose the pieces you still enjoy living with or that hold a particularly clear connection. The memory and its meaning are not measured by the number of belongings you retain.
8. How can music, books and art start family conversations?
Begin with one specific item and ask an open question. Play a song, show a book or point to an artwork and ask what memories it brings back. Specific prompts make storytelling easier and allow different people to contribute their own perspectives. The conversation can remain relaxed, curious and focused on everyday experience.
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