Saturday, November 28, 2015
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
The beginning of the end of another year. These ends come too quickly, too frequently, and I regard them with a sense of gloom and dread that never previously infiltrated my private Decembers. I feel ancient and worn out far beyond my years.
These feelings are only a passing melancholy, inspired by the burden of recent unkind years that chewed me up, spit me out, and left only remnants of what I used to be.
When I blog, I'm merely talking to myself with nobody else in mind. Seeing evidence of my private thoughts in print is often disconcerting.
The above photo was taken early yesterday afternoon, outside my back door, and is in color. The monochromatic bleakness of it is starkly representative of this time of year: the sun has drifted so far south that the forest is rendered nearly colorless.
Yesterday (Friday) was unseasonably warm and overcast. The sun burned feebly in the hazy distance like a wayward moon. I loved the surrealistic atmosphere and wandered in the woods, savoring a gentle mellowness that won't last.
Echoes of music haunted my mind - specifically the first movement of Rachmaninov's Fourth Concerto, and more specifically that intoxicating, brief theme that emerges at Tempo come prima (alle Breve).......only hardcore pianists will know what I'm referring to.
I used to have the full score of this concerto, but it was one of many, many things lost by the movers when I came to TN. I won't elaborate about this now, it's too painful......
I studied this concerto in my youth, in California, but never performed it publicly. It evokes some of the happiest times in my life, when I was deeply and passionately in love.
Music - for just about everyone, I suppose - has the powerful ability to resurrect memories.
I could mention Rachmaninov's Etudes Tableaux, op.39 - particularly #5 in E-flat minor - but I don't want to become boring.
Jon, boring? Not a chance.
I was so busy doing things on Thanksgiving Day that I decided not to cook. I had my holiday dinner on Friday instead. It was delicious and I still have leftovers for today.
The holiday season has officially begun.
What's the deal with Black Friday? Who the hell named it that? Isn't it racist? Where are all the protesters and riots? Where are Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton?
Black Friday is another inane American invention to designate the beginning of the holiday shopping season. I think it sounds extremely depressing and foreboding......
....but if it was called White Friday it would spark protests and riots.....you can't win.
How about calling it Happy Friday? Or, Pathetic Fools Spending All Their Money on a Pagan Holiday Friday?
Just a thought.
There is still some color obstinately lingering in the forest, if you bother to search for it. Neither black, nor white....but rather a pleasing smattering of subtle sienna and burnt orange.
It is presently dawn on Saturday and I haven't been to bed yet. I'm going to catch an hour or three of shuteye before starting my day.