Friday, 17 April 2015

How Long Ago?

It could have been years but in reality it is only a few months since I’ve last commanded the notation software, get a new sheet and pour my song out.

This knowledge crept up on me in the early morning hours and suddenly confronted me so severely, I felt as a piece of soft clay, molded to the truth of my whole being and I listened.

Who am I? I know that my first purpose is to answer and serve  - I humbly receive my tasks and fulfill them, not just immediately, I also plan each step I have to take for some are quite challenging and trying the last bit of intelligence and logics which is after all, another duty to enrich my field of thinking.

The past months were as normal as any time in my life, serving the purpose that each duty requires. Normal daily routine the human is subjected to for basic maintenance of a body and environment and whatever branches further.

I am an old tree, many branches, many responsibilities. Thankfully I do not see responsibilities as most people, it’s rather a pleasure to care for that which is dependent on my input. At the end of the day I and all those affected of the (my) day and investment for future, can retire. Tired, but happy. Cared for.

(to care where it is required is often a care for myself, I learned)

So I ask: Where does my song fit in?

No. Song does not ‘fit in’. It is there all the time, like a sponge, absorbing my each moment, formulating it into the language I know best to speak it when time is right.

I suddenly realize that besides using this magnificent language to ‘paint’ pretty pictures for the ear, the main purpose of it is to speak what is deepest inside me.

There are many pieces that came in script already, but most are processing inside me amongst a very big noise.

It is the noise that is being filtered into segments and filed under various heads. (I cannot call it topics, for each topic is but a single book of the segments of my life – topics are the parts that make up this book. Same as movements in a symphony. Something like that.)

So then, when last? Yeah, I’ve forgotten when last but I know that that which is matter for the human senses happens when all is in place, ready to be understood by those who have senses, whether able to listen and to hear, look and see and such.

I have experienced this all the time. Over five decades came rushing when I found the valve and even is there still so much to pour out. (Most are probably pleasurable paintings of sound, I don’t know - but those are not as urgent as that which will force out before them.)

I’ve learned already, experienced the path in my second Symphony. Although that one happened in hardly more than a month about a year ago, much, much more sneaked in between during that time, memories of long, long ago. And it also formed the base for actualities during those days.

Although I composed eleven movements in just over thirty days then, I also composed old memories and new experiences during that time.

In a way I hope to not ever experience such an urgent fever again. I was so tired, hardly rested. Whatever spare time I had, I was composing. Coffee or tea on the side and sometimes a snack. I’d even nip off some sleep just because that music would wake me up so loud as if a big orchestra was playing it. Vivid dreams of working, I woke up dead tired at times.

Whatever lies ahead is something I don’t know. The ‘how long ago’ is but a short time but it is a great noise falling into place faster and faster.

The duty I have to finalize first is for my Papa, his voice which, by some weird deal, is being ignored. Papa is also part of my music and I know that he shall triumph. It is my responsibility to show the way Papa wanted and it shall all in all pave the way for others.

So then, my duty is to answer and serve the purpose and the final pieces will fall into place.

(A parallel of the case I took for Papa will be published elsewhere. Some do know and studied everything and if one can consider it all as a jury of the world – one will know that it is out of my hands. Truth cannot be destroyed and each being in this world needs truth. Even the guilty in order for them to rectify their wrong, make it good again.)

How long ago I composed? I checked and saw that amidst all the rubble, there are quite a few I did. I didn’t even realize I finalized a few already.

When will I compose again? Well, everything is formulating as I mentioned, and I must admit that I am a bit anxious (okay, scared like nothing you can imagine) that it all will come as a full surge.

Music does come as a surge to me when it’s ready to be spoken. Yet, I am concerned that I needed to suppress quite a bit due to duties and that it is going to become so overwhelming again.

I’m a tad stressed about it all. So, I am trying to focus on the pleasures I had when I finalized a piece before and will use it to kick myself.

And I hope to remember the bit I researched (studied) about music so that it can go quick.

(what I learned in the meanwhile about notation and gizmos and stuff, I’ve applied to most compositions already in order for my little people in their digital orchestra to play a bit better, the way I know it should sound. This means that I’ll eventually, when I can afford it, pull off all old releases to replace it with new editions which sound so much nicer and more to how I hear my music)

(I miss Papa. He would have loved this and be with me all the way. He loved music. But surely, he also knew that I was there for him always and even now while his voice is still in this world, unheard. His human rights are most important to me.)

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