Music may be called the sister of painting, for she is dependent upon hearing, the sense which comes second…painting excels and ranks higher than music, because it does not fade away as soon as it is born… – Da Vinci
Sitting down in the living room after a long day preparing for a presentation that ended wrong. Felt like writing today, just to restart again what I planned to do. It’s been a long week. A funeral that I couldn’t attend. A flooded house which I couldn’t salvage. A brother who I never knew how to talk to. Sitting down listening to the piano and writing is the best I can do for now.
Who cares about plotting lines on paper when things seem so impermanent? When life is as fleeting as the notes that linger in the air just enough to be heard, to be experienced? I guess that’s why humans make maps. To mark the unbounded Earth in his grasp, so as not to lose her. We are all afraid of getting a little lost. But little does he know, she is gone once the isolines are laid. Life is too large to be contained on a piece of vellum.
I think life is like music. Ever in the moment, to be savor – be it a sweet tune or a desolate refrain. Musicians map your brains only for a while and most likely you’ll never remember the song the same way you heard it the first time. It is ever evolving depending on how good your memory is… but in a good in a way, so that you can tweak it to your liking for the day.
The music has stopped. The moment is gone. But what it has inspired me to write whatever that is written here. Read it like you’re listening to a piece of music. Come up with your own impression. Life is never a one-way street unless you make it so.