I enjoy having the house by myself on Saturday nights while Dore does his show, Tangents, at the radio station. I hardly listen to his show. After a long day of teaching I find his selection usually too energetic. All I want is quiet.
We receive three to five CDs in the mail every day. When Dore auditions he puts the music on loud. The sound fills the kitchen and the living room. Escape is difficult, even when I keep my door closed, the pulse of drums and bass seep through.
Sometimes though, his music connected with me on a gut level and would change my state of being. One day I walked into the house to the music of cello and piano. The two instruments were in a most intense dialogue, drawing from each other’s breath, entwining, bemoaning, separating, coming back together, making love, urging the listener, stirring up an emotion that needed immediate fulfillment. I joined the orgy. Pen to paper, poetry flowed out like a third stream.
Photo credit: Raymond Van Tassel
Perhaps “notes” are the “words” of music.
I like that!