Letters of Life


Credit: eilish.deviantart.com/art/Fairies-99603591

The first time I properly heard Chopin was when I was given a casette tape (yes) of the pianist’s ethereal Nocturnes, those will-o’-the-wisps of night music, evanescent and evasive, quite out of one’s grasp if one were only a recreational piano player.

I used to pop the tape into my mini-compo (yes), and those dancing phrases and steps would pirouette in and around my room as I collapsed on the bed, head towards the floor, reading, writing, thinking, dreaming. Those were quiet Saturday afternoons in my childhood home off Holland Road.

The fragile notes, the well-intentioned pauses, remind me sometimes of the thoughts of a poet-friend, old in mind but light of foot, disciplined and imbued with a sensitivity beyond measure.

I am moved by fancies that are curled

Around these images, and cling:

The notion of some infinitely gentle

Infinitely suffering thing.    TS Eliot, Preludes

Categorised in: Making Connections (Friendship), Poetry & Songs

5 Responses »

  1. The ethereal touch needed for the tapestry of evanescent phrases is occasionlly paired with exigent burst of forza chords or shapely, delicate & accelerated runs. A pair of Hanonized hands, vocalized fingers & emotions that has soared through the Valleys of life is crucial for such Nocturnal deliveries, peppered with numerous Fermatas and Ritenutos…

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