paul klee "insula dulcamara". 1938.
i have loved music for as long as i can remember . . . love, in the sense that i have been grateful for its presence as a reminder of the goodness that connects all and everything. the first time i was aware of the possibility that music didn't necessarily emanate from its players came with my listening to the music of keith jarrett. jarrett has observed that "his best performances were during the times where he had the least amount of preconception of what he was going to play at the next moment. an apocryphal account of one such performance had jarrett staring at the piano for several minutes without playing; as the audience grew increasingly uncomfortable, one member shouted to jarrett, "d sharp!", to which the pianist responded, "thank you!," and launched into an improvisation at speed."
it was something jarrett said, (and the exact words escape me) but its essence was that the real work of the musician is to get out of the way of the music.
extend that into the larger states of living and being. how do i get out of the way of the 'doing' of life and allow the 'being' to become.
robert fripp's aphorism "may we trust the inexpressible benevolence of the creative impulse" is revealed on a daily basis as i listen to music that (as fripp also points out) so needs to be heard that despite the extraordinary odds against its arriving, somehow manages to do so.
music and love are synonymous in my understanding . . . rabindranath tagore says that "love is the only reality and it is not a mere sentiment. it is the ultimate truth that lies at the heart of creation." it is from the heart of the creation that music flows without condition.
yard and garden notes
15 hours ago