The world is moving at "multi tasking" lightning speed, though in silent, staccato clicks.
It's all on your phone. A life's history, a running tally of friends, family, shopping habits, bills, cares, fantasies, health concerns, dreams worries, all the places you may have visited in virtual reality, in your imagination, in real time and/or in your car or on foot.
An entire diary of one's hopes, desires, fears, frustrations, favorite tunes and prosaic daily tasks. A detailed, satellite picture of your every footstep, whether in truth or imagined.
The question that continually comes up: why do we need to get all this done anyway, in the fastest way possible, then meticulously inscribe and post every movement, interaction, image and blip of consciousness into the ship's log of your existence? Is there a soundtrack for this?
During the first small heat wave in June I was headed to the market in my battered, little Civic- masked, locked and loaded against all and any germs- when I turned on the radio and heard- nay, was enveloped by!- the familiar, eternal chords of Swan Lake.
Without a doubt, the exquisite, shape shifting myth is a strange tale of transmogrification, a poignant, tragic narrative, inducing the creation of a magical and majesterial ballet suite, a symphony of deepest fantasy.The story of Odette and her prince, their dark doubles Odile and Rothbart, eternity and mortality and the forces of good and evil give rise to a kind of shattering, indelible music. I acknowledge that the die hard Baroque groupies and such will turn up their smarmy noses at this shamelessly romantic, emotional outpouring of fairy dust schmaltz that brings me to near tears every time I hear it, but no matter.
As the music filled the parked car and the story unfolded in my mind, for one crystal moment, the sight of all those tired, over heated souls with face coverings as observed through the windshield, dragging themselves along the hot streets during the summer of not-going-anywhere, suddenly melted into a kind of suspended, melodic collage of pure, happy listening.
So you see, I'm not really talking about the pandemic anymore. . . .
FROM DIANE:
ReplyDeleteYou’re so right. A special piece, as you say, can bring joy and a moment's peace, even as it touches, and breaks, your heart. The andante from Mahler’s 6th Symphony is that for me. It’s achingly beautiful and so melancholy I could cry every time I hear it, and can only believe it was divinely inspired. How else to explain such music? I loved the serendipity in the end of this piece that made it end on such a lovely note. Life is really like that sometimes, and it’s good to be reminded of that.
Thanx Lynn for the reminder there is still some good life out there!
ReplyDeleteLEts see
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh, my test words got published! So glad you are through with the Pandemic! But then, what the heck else do we have to think about? You found the answer to all of this summer’s angst: great music and a little air conditioning.
ReplyDelete