Now, that face that was contorted into such grotesqness was glowing with an expression of ecstactic relief as he ran his fragile fingers through his frail looking hair now thinning with age. He has just delivered a masterpiece and there was so much chatter about his finesse and the precision of his delivery amidst the dying ovation.
I remained on my feet for minutes after his performance, dazed by the beauty of it all. I had taken in so much and so much had happened in me while this master played on the indisputable queen of all musical instruments. Each note spoke to me in a personal way as if they were my very dialect.The effect, both stunning and enlightening.
"snap out of it boy",Larry said tugging on my sleeve. "I know you are a music junkee but i've never seen you so dazed."
"If only you knew how that man spoke to me with every note he played, how much I have come to see within those blissful minutes..." I was saying.
"Yeah,yeah, now I think you are loosing it, you need to have your head checked 'cos last I checked, sound is not visible!" said Larry, trying despirately to bring me back from my mental wonderings. "Humour him" Lynn was saying, trying to be apologetic "He never had a thing for perspective, his world is flat and lacking depth...you were crying?" I was embarrased by the realization.
I have always liked Lynn. She was the bright one of the pair- Larry and Lynn- sometimes I wonder the basis for their compatibility. They have been in this relationship for so long and they are so much as opposite as light and dark. Larry is a sweet plain guy that believes in living for the moment. He appreciates beautiful things but does not care about fine details.He always says, whenever he is querried about his non challant disposition, that those who worry about every thing never live long. "Smell the roses and kick the sand" he says, "who cares which pharoah rules!"
I was back to my senses as Larry would believe. I have always been a dreamer, the kind that dreans big dreams from little things. Larry accuses me of being a surrealist, that I always suppose the impossible. In those fleeting minutes with this slim, frail looking master performing his concerto, I had drifted into phantasm. Each note taking it's own unique form in my mind was adding up to a picture and teaching me a lesson.
Back at home with a cup of ice tea and freshly prepared toast- my special stun recovery and stress killing kung fu, better than any other- I tried to process my experience. I have just witnessed the best ever piano performance by a master of little repute. I believe this performance will be the right launching pad he had been praying for. He was playing VISION, that was the title of the song. More reputable performers had come up before him and had dazzled the crowd with their mastery and dexterity, then this man of little repute came up. His tall slim and fragile frame giving one the impression of a walking scare crow. His hair was this with white on his temples and he had a scholarly look on his face. Each step was with arrogance that belied his fragility. Probably, he would be in his mid sixties. The crowd never expected him to compare to the lot that performed before him. They were dazzling, they were well known and they lived up to their reputation. This man, little was known of. I did not expect much from him, Larry and Lynn shared my sentiment. Then he quietly sat down and began to play. Thirty seconds on and the auditorium fell silent. There was something about the way the sounds combined, something magical, mysterious, godlike. Every one was entranced, carried into a world with the individuals' uniqueness holding sway. For some, it was judgement, for others it was enlightenment of a religious sort, yet for the likes of Larry, it was a plain simple special feeling.
The notes began to speak in my mind. At first is was soto voce, then it began drumming loudly, emphatically. The emotional response was a concoction of feelings my brain could not interprete, I was stunned. With everything in my head in a state of suspended animation, it became clear. This was his gospel and every thing he did was on purpose. First, he seemed to be in a trance. Then his eyes glowed with a fiery passion with his face contorting into a grotesq sterness, like the ancient priests delivering a message from the gods. The beads of sweat pouring down in torrents not from labour (his work was effortless) but from sheer passion.
The words of every note he played as they spoke to me, brought my life before me as it was, as it is and as it can ever be. My values and perspective was before me. I was seeing the horizon I had defined for my life in a new light. I saw what I really needed, what I have never seen. Then the tears started pouring unknown to me.
Now in the comfort of my appartment at the government reservation I was trying to add up my experience. I had just passed through a paradigm shift and was in a new unexplored mental territory. Gredually sleep stole in, my kung fu was kicking in, then the drapes fell...
Watch out for the continuation of this story, hope you enjoyed reading. Thanks.
I remained on my feet for minutes after his performance, dazed by the beauty of it all. I had taken in so much and so much had happened in me while this master played on the indisputable queen of all musical instruments. Each note spoke to me in a personal way as if they were my very dialect.The effect, both stunning and enlightening.
"snap out of it boy",Larry said tugging on my sleeve. "I know you are a music junkee but i've never seen you so dazed."
"If only you knew how that man spoke to me with every note he played, how much I have come to see within those blissful minutes..." I was saying.
"Yeah,yeah, now I think you are loosing it, you need to have your head checked 'cos last I checked, sound is not visible!" said Larry, trying despirately to bring me back from my mental wonderings. "Humour him" Lynn was saying, trying to be apologetic "He never had a thing for perspective, his world is flat and lacking depth...you were crying?" I was embarrased by the realization.
I have always liked Lynn. She was the bright one of the pair- Larry and Lynn- sometimes I wonder the basis for their compatibility. They have been in this relationship for so long and they are so much as opposite as light and dark. Larry is a sweet plain guy that believes in living for the moment. He appreciates beautiful things but does not care about fine details.He always says, whenever he is querried about his non challant disposition, that those who worry about every thing never live long. "Smell the roses and kick the sand" he says, "who cares which pharoah rules!"
I was back to my senses as Larry would believe. I have always been a dreamer, the kind that dreans big dreams from little things. Larry accuses me of being a surrealist, that I always suppose the impossible. In those fleeting minutes with this slim, frail looking master performing his concerto, I had drifted into phantasm. Each note taking it's own unique form in my mind was adding up to a picture and teaching me a lesson.
Back at home with a cup of ice tea and freshly prepared toast- my special stun recovery and stress killing kung fu, better than any other- I tried to process my experience. I have just witnessed the best ever piano performance by a master of little repute. I believe this performance will be the right launching pad he had been praying for. He was playing VISION, that was the title of the song. More reputable performers had come up before him and had dazzled the crowd with their mastery and dexterity, then this man of little repute came up. His tall slim and fragile frame giving one the impression of a walking scare crow. His hair was this with white on his temples and he had a scholarly look on his face. Each step was with arrogance that belied his fragility. Probably, he would be in his mid sixties. The crowd never expected him to compare to the lot that performed before him. They were dazzling, they were well known and they lived up to their reputation. This man, little was known of. I did not expect much from him, Larry and Lynn shared my sentiment. Then he quietly sat down and began to play. Thirty seconds on and the auditorium fell silent. There was something about the way the sounds combined, something magical, mysterious, godlike. Every one was entranced, carried into a world with the individuals' uniqueness holding sway. For some, it was judgement, for others it was enlightenment of a religious sort, yet for the likes of Larry, it was a plain simple special feeling.
The notes began to speak in my mind. At first is was soto voce, then it began drumming loudly, emphatically. The emotional response was a concoction of feelings my brain could not interprete, I was stunned. With everything in my head in a state of suspended animation, it became clear. This was his gospel and every thing he did was on purpose. First, he seemed to be in a trance. Then his eyes glowed with a fiery passion with his face contorting into a grotesq sterness, like the ancient priests delivering a message from the gods. The beads of sweat pouring down in torrents not from labour (his work was effortless) but from sheer passion.
The words of every note he played as they spoke to me, brought my life before me as it was, as it is and as it can ever be. My values and perspective was before me. I was seeing the horizon I had defined for my life in a new light. I saw what I really needed, what I have never seen. Then the tears started pouring unknown to me.
Now in the comfort of my appartment at the government reservation I was trying to add up my experience. I had just passed through a paradigm shift and was in a new unexplored mental territory. Gredually sleep stole in, my kung fu was kicking in, then the drapes fell...
Watch out for the continuation of this story, hope you enjoyed reading. Thanks.
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