For the sculptor skulking in the basement’s stony depths,
Silently scraping stone,
Forcing a pert nose or winsome eyes to take shape
Staring at the underground chamber where art is kept politely out of the way
Seeing whatever stone faces see
Come upstairs; hear the music.
For the lover wandering the sweater sleeves of city streets,
Hopefully calling birds,
Giving birth to fluttering lashes, blooming flower-lips
Where there was only drunken stubble and a brown-eyed twinkle
Sparkling the way liars always do
Rise and hear the music.
For the mathematician charting the galaxies of physics
Scrupulously scrawling with that protractor,
Searching for “eureka” moments among the mass of numbers and symbols
Dream1ng, breath1ng, dr1nk1ng numb3rs
Remembering fondly the harmonious repasts of old
Come join and taste the music.
For anyone looking for anything anywhere in this too-big, too-small universe of creative practice and finding nothing that strikes the right chord –
Melt the mundanity out of your stone face by bathing it in baritone bossa nova. Fall in love with minor acoustic improvisation. Ride the rhythm of a swing tune until you’re too dizzy to count; all you can do is taste the augmented fourths and warm your frozen fingers in the syncopation and write some 4-part harmony into your bloodstream. And why not? It’s what our world is made of.
Image credits in order of appearance:
“Michelangelo’s Moses detail” by giopuo – http://www.flickr.com/photos/giopuo/3284773485. Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons – https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Michelangelo%27s_Moses_detail.jpg#/media/File:Michelangelo%27s_Moses_detail.jpg
“Mt.Fuji and Lake Shojiko at sunrise” by hogeasdf – http://www.flickr.com/photos/9177053@N05/3052002881/in/photostream/. Licensed under CC BY 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons – https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mt.Fuji_and_Lake_Shojiko_at_sunrise.jpg#/media/File:Mt.Fuji_and_Lake_Shojiko_at_sunrise.jpg