One Hundred and Eighty Two 10.25.16
Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your shadow on the sundials
and let loose the wind in the fields.
Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.
Whoever has no house now will not build one
Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long
will stay up, read, write long letters,
and wander the avenues, up and down,
restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.
Ah Rilke is coming back to me, and Bach is composing a new piece for us, Tolstoy is smoking his pipe, and autumn is here! I got to see some members of The National Symphony Orchestra last night, and when the violin soloist played a Bach piece I might have shed a few tears.. I was almost certain that this is happening for a reason.. and if I look closely I can see Rilke walking in as Vronsky and Anna dance. From being locked out on the street to being locked in mind and art.. The lines in this poem, you can just see them without knowing who is walking down what street.. you know him or her, you know you, and you know the leaves.. you have seen them yourself. This is what Rilke talked about writing personal poems of your personal life.. life is happening for all of us and to all of us.
Also, I got to meet the composer’s mother, Louise, which was rather an odd encounter.. I wonder how much of it had to do with me reading Anna Karenina and listening to Bach everyday for a month now..I may be losing whatever is left from my mind, which is good. There always will be new minds to attain.. but meanwhile with empty space I have in my head I can look at life and see connections. I can see the wind, and taste the words and music. I, sometimes, think that everything in life is connected and it’s just matter of seeing these connections. Think of a massive invisible web and think of small encounters as powdered sugar being thrown on this web.. you suddenly start seeing it.. like rain on spider web, like laser beams in smoke.. It was always there, but just needed a contrast.
Luise ran into me and spilled her drink on me and herself, and I was so sad that this happened, because I felt like I could have prevented this, because I spilled drink on an older lady, which is always unpleasant to have your drink on your dress and not in your glass, even if she ran into me, and because I try to pass through events as nimble as I can.. It helps me to observe without interrupting the natural flow of people and things. (But before this happened I have already seen Louise, without knowing this will happen or who she is. She was standing in front of me at beginning of the performance, and again after the first intermission when we switched to a different side of the hall. A small woman with a glass of champagne and a dress with sort of an half modern and half classic look. In my head I called her my concert buddy – connections). After many apologizes from my end she handled the whole situation with grace and kindness, and assured me that it was ok and a with a calm smile she said it was her fault -“Oh well, what’s your name?” She asked with a smile extending her left hand gesturing a subtle hand shake. Ok we were good now, I felt comfortable being there again and not feeling too bad about what had just happened. I may be in love with Louise mother of Mason Bates.. ha! She knew something about humanity or darkness or light. There was something, she held a special energy. Maybe I should say I was in love, not a romantic one, for a few minutes that we hanged out while I helped her get the champagne out of her eye and dress, and before bunch of fancy and dry looking people showed up around us. Everything was right, champagne spilled but glass remind in hand, lights were dimmed and no one saw or care, and there was ample amount of thick napkins right next to where it happened. During those moments we had an interesting connection, almost too human, which disappeared when she return to her designated spot among the “elite”. (I’m calling them the elite because the board members had a designated seating spot even if it was a standing performance – mash up of Electronic music and classical pieces. A lot of people knew her, an older lady with exquisite taste in shoe and dress knew her, some younger people who looked so boring that I did not wanted to look at them too long knew her, some of the board members of the The Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts knew her and gathered around her, and looked at me with a confusion which was very entertaining for me, which led to me giving my difficult to hear and pronounce name to them and a couple of hand shakes, she is the mother of first composer in residence after all and we were standing very close and chatting, so some people felt it would be rude to just ignore me, I guess. Anyway, what made my encounter with her human and remarkable was that moment of honesty we had and her question right before her circle of friends arrived to us. It was just me and her and napkins and spilled drinks. She looked at me and said, he’s my son, pointing at Mason Bates who was on stage performing an electronic piece (This is when I learned who she is), and the she said I don’t want to embrace him by looking like a total drunk, now look at me and tell me if I have make up around my eyes and if I look drunk.. I was amazed by how comfortable she was in that.. and no she did not look drunk nor she was drunk.. but the question remained with me.. I start thinking about Louise as a mother and Mason as a child..humans are just humans naked pinned against time and life! life is strange and being open to it is even more stranger. Thank you Louise, Bach, Rilke, Anna, and all the others in my head..