rlbourges

The Morning After

In Artists, Current reading, Drafts, Music, Revision, The Crab Walker on June 22, 2014 at 8:31 am

We did a much better job last night. The venue is perfect; the crowd, appreciative. We could hear the other voices – a crucial element on songs with complex inter weavings of pitch, words and rhythms.

Sunday morning. Flags and bunting to the colors of the local rugby team everywhere. A big-big match from what I understand – at the local level, winning would be the equivalent of Costa Rica beating out Italy at the games in Rio. Whether you care for team sports or not, who can resist the appeal of seeing the underdog triumph against all odds? A powerful emotion, no matter how short the golden moment may be. Rare = unforgettable. The day your ship came in. The day they stood and applauded.

The applause per se? The fine words, the thanks from people who loved the show? Nice, of course. But not the best part. The best is when you know you’re singing as you should; when the energy the crowd sends back in appreciation makes you give the performance that extra push. When the whole things flows. The folks are happy and so are you.

And then. Moving on. On the table: a slim volume – some eighty pages. A freebie received in the mail as a gift for buying two books in a specific collection. The text: a monolog Alessandro Baricco wrote for an actor. Ergo, meant to be read out loud. Called Novecento : pianiste, in French.

Writing – alone – that works at that same pitch. Writing as if it mattered. As if it made all the difference in the world. Because when it works, it’s like the small magical moment in the encore that starts when Tam and I segue from the crowd-raising El Pueblo Unido into the first tac-ou-tac-ou-tac-ou-tac-ou-tac, and the group ends the show on El Son No Ha Muerto.

 

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