I was just having a moment of soft blur in town last night and these phrases started to drop in. As usual, there was only a corner of scrap paper for jotting them down, but joy of joys, I didn’t lose that little scrap.
Being very tired has an unexpected, peculiar effect that consistently takes me by surprise. Wish I could do it when I try!
This is what Beethoven does for me. Specifically, the opening movement of opus 110
Memories of long past youth drift like serene wandering clouds…. a stray wisp of melancholy, a tender ache of poignance, but above all, a warming radiance of gratitude.
These nebulous reminders soften at their edges and dissolve, fanning out and billowing like a swaying gossamer fringe on the breeze and then as myriad sparklers within the shimmering cloud-spray mist of a waterfall, their vapours distil into dancing streams of droplets. Each perfect miniscule orb of reflective light a mirror for the universal preciousness of life. And the bathing flood of gratitude a forgiving redemption, putting grief and toil into calm perspective.
Starry distant points of light pulsate and hint at faintly remembered fragrance; it seems that the earth and the violet heavens must sigh and and reach away from each other in exquisite tension. Suspended within the vast expanding interval, uncertainty folds into belief until with a long outbreath the central song of human experience is called into being. Darkness, the inevitable and necessary companion of light. Exploration the manifestation of life’s journey. The inner and outer landscape with all its twists and turns, moulding the soul and informing our choices along the path of destiny.