Dare to Dwell

"Chronic remorse... is a most undesirable sentiment. If you have behaved badly, repent, make what amends you can and address yourself to the task of behaving better next time. On no account brood over your wrong-doing. Rolling in the muck is not the best way of getting clean.... Art also has its morality, and many of the rules of this morality are the same as, or at least analogous to, the rules of ordinary ethics. Remorse, for example, is as undesirable in relation to our bad art as it is in relation to our bad behaviour. The badness should be hunted out, acknowledged and, if possible, avoided in the future. To pore over the literary shortcomings of twenty years ago, to attempt to patch a faulty work into the perfection it missed at its first execution, to spend one's middle age in trying to mend the artistic sins committed and bequeathed by that different person who was oneself in youth-- all this is surely vain and futile. And that is why this new Brave New World is the same as the old one. Its defects as a work of art are considerable; but in order to correct them I should have to rewrite the book-- and in the process of rewriting, as an older, other person, I should probably get rid not only of some of the faults of the story, but also of such merits as it originally possessed. And so, resisting the temptation to wallow in artistic remorse, I prefer to leave both well and ill alone and to think about something else." ~Huxley

Friday, December 16, 2011

The Round of Music

If I could explain music, I wouldn't need it anymore.  But that's not the case; the notes never stop playing in my mind. The words continue to resonate even if in real life it has silenced.  The tone melts my soul into pieces. 

The first time you listen to this piece - you're bewildered, trying to get a feel for it.  What does it mean?  How come it's so beautiful?  If there's no such thing as perfection..... no, that's impossible.  This is perfection.  It harmoniously agrees with my heart.  When I sacrifice my being to this sound, it brings me to my knees.

A pure, round teardrop escapes both eyes simultaneously.  Regardless of whether they're tears of joy or sadness, or some variation in between, it's a genuine, natural emotion.  The song has yet to reach its pinnacle, but already it's potent.  You can sense it because of its gentleness, with a stern, struck chord emphasizing its presence every so often. 

A gorgeous, round sun arises.  This ballad is about to reach its zenith.  And as it climbs to this point, vitality and strength prevails con forza.  Fortissimo.  It's astounding how invaluable such inspiration is.  Without having spent a round, Lincoln penny, the malleable mind proved once again why the willingness to change who we are is much more vital than the change that swirls around us.

A glowing, round moon ascends.  The singer's voice softens.  The words echo for one last time.  And once we have reached the last four-beat rest, there is a moment of truth - I feel the same emotions, but my perspective of life has forever altered.  Another pure, round teardrop brought me full circle.

I realize this circle is more like an oval - what I create is innately imperfect.  But despite the rough edges, steering too wide or too narrow, its presence is eminent.   


It keeps me listening for its pulse - a cadence I'll never forget.
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