When I saw this image I couldn't resist it. Just look at those two, transported through their music into such visible pleasure, right there on the street. I wish I knew what they were playing at that moment. Are they in Italy or France? I can't decide. The photographer is from Italy, so probably they are Italian, too. I don't know about that, but what I do know is that they are in the midst of the music. And that is a good place to be.
We are quite literally made of music. From the music of the spheres, the celestial unstruck music, the primordial Sound, our physical world precipitates from resonance into more solid form. No wonder music transports us, releasing and refreshing us.
Well not all music you may be thinking. Not heavy metal, or whatever it is for you. But for those who love heavy metal, it invigorates and opens new vistas.
I love so many kinds of music--Indian ragas, native American flute, Pergolesi's Stabat Mater, Brahms Requiem, that marvelous Bulgarian womens' choir, the lambent flames and flowering of some gypsy songs. BB King, Etta James.
The liturgical music of Tibetan Buddhism brings me to great openness. What music transports you, and where/how does it send you?
Today, I am celebrating because I have finished writing my musical play A New Wrinkle! How am I celebrating? No formal feast has come to mind as yet, but I am sure it will. For now, right now, this is my celebration, to breathe in and out, feeling the fingers moving quickly on the keyboard, transmitting thoughts from my mind into words, in the stillness of early morning. In the midst of the music--as if we had a thousand years, as if we were to die tomorrow.
The image of street musicians is by Italian photographer Fabio Gismondi via Flickr
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