I have been thinking on stillness of late. We don't seem to appreciate it. At practice today I came to the realization that stillness in music is where you really appreciate the music. It's what make the note, played one by one, a piece to move the soul. A split second on a single tone to make the music speak. Some people say that the music is in the silence, the places where the notes drop out all together. The places where the anticipation is greatest and create the most dramatic affect. That is untrue. The music is where every note sits and is appreciated next to the following. They work best together, appreciated individually in their own time. No matter how fast, or short, or fleeting, every note has value. Beautiful, meaningful value.
I am afraid often. Is the pain in my chest like that other pain? Is my bleeding normal or extreme? What did I do before that made it happen? Am I doing it again?
I have decided that Death is following me around, waiting for me to slip up again. I failed in someway that he wasn't ready for before, and now he's waiting for me to make that same mistake again. He's looking for me to be in that same place again. I don't want to be in that place again, but I have a tendency to wander in ways that I don't expect. I am easily lost.
I try to think back to what I saw when I was somewhere else, and trying to remember what it was I saw there. Someone spoke to me. Someone spoke to me in kind and familiar tones. He wasn't scared. It was loud there and bright, and when I was back here, for a moment it was still.
