Localized in my ears first, the sound was painful. Sensation spread without shrinking to my toes. Its intensity colored the feeling un-familiar. Transcendent. And everything grew still. Around me I saw people writhing and bopping, a few covering their ears. I was extraordinarily calm, as if the noise had matched something and neutralized me. Hydrochloric acid to base; vinegar boiled to egg whites.
- from a short story, about a performance almost two years ago -
Last Sunday I saw a show that knocked me over. Two guys, one a friend already, one a friend now, played music from noon until 20 o’clock.
This is sort of how it sounded.
And this.
I had trouble sleeping the night before and bound a new book.
When I find some glue it will fit inside this castle.
One candle was supposed to be lit during the performance, but a rounded plate, full of maybe eight tiny candles, was brought out instead. I was asked to light and take care of the green one for a few hours this afternoon.
I arrived at 12 o’clock on Sunday a few minutes after the musicians began to play. Sounds bounced between and up around them. Only four of us were in the audience at the start. The little girl left the room. Then the two men left, and it was just the musicians and I. I took out a piece of paper, torn from an old sketchbook, and began to sketch. It started as a portrait but then became lines and scratches hit in tune with the music. The space between audience and performer dissolved for a while and it was as though I was in it, making music too.
