hahaist011's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- see that mama with the nightgown on? she can burn debussy all night long. please believe: there is nothing like it in the world. or, at least, in my world. what my mama does is say, "time to get to my appointed tasks," meaning time to transplant some iris or scrub the kitchen floor or whatev. but she doesn't want to, i guess, so she says, "well, when in doubt, play the piano." then sits her little house-coated self on the bench and gets to it. she always starts with some of that good old rousing piano-lesson fare--all that stuff that teaches you major and minor (all ching-chong) and keys and everything. and just goes in and out of a million other things. she plays all the stuff she digs one after another or right on top of each other, moving from this really sweet and expansive melody they use behind psalms at mass into this totally saucy "blue moon," with all these spanish bits mixed...some of your basic "hernando's hideaway" business into full-on bullring pasodobles. and then it's like she's warmed up, so she does it. and by it, of course, i mean "reverie." she takes it slower (which she always says is because she's no good at it) than i have heard on most recordings. but i swear to god, the point here is to luxuriate in the opening. wherever i am in the house whenever she does it, i can feeeeeel her doing it. and i pretty much always close my eyes. but yo it gets even better: debussy has somehow become, over the years, the bridge to something else. and god help me, that something else that this tiny little adorable sets up is "what'd i say." it's effing seamless and goddamn cool as juju like some shot of certainty. what can and will do me in. like the pkd killing-sentence. 11:44 a.m. - 2007-06-16 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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