Tuesday, July 21, 2009

When Love is Taken

I received a call at work today to tell me that my cousin passed on to another plane. She was the youngest member in my generation of our extended family. Now I am. My wife is at the hospital supporting the birth of a dear friends daughter. Joann was present at this young womans birth and will now witness her giving birth. The cycles continue. Love flows, love is taken ... One set of parents experiencing supreme joy, another the saddest fate of all. I sit in the middle, I sense; I feel; I breathe ...

I randomly placed a partial capo on the neck of my guitar at 7pm tonight. Did not like the voicing so I moved the capo from the higher strings to the lower. Played around a bit and added a capo to the first position leaving the bottom C open. My investigation began. Music seemed to want to be heard. I quieted. I thought of my cousin Gabrielle. I thought of my uncle and his loss. The title, When Love is Taken appeared.

I worked with this, with a short break for Qi Gong and another short break for a lie down. My back was so tight, so very tight. I continued working with the notion of the piece until 9pm. Joann called with a hospital update. I recorded what I had for the second or third time and went off to purchase fuel.

Parking my car I heard the insects and the leaves singing their summer song. I am fortunate to live a neighborhood that is an urban forest. Many tall old trees and the habitat they support. The wind was gentle and uneven so the rustle of the leaves was also. Combined with the insects humming I was enticed to walk.

I have always loved the night time. The blanket of dark. Sounds emerging from hidden places. As I walked the wind subsided. Then briefly the drone of traffic in the distance entered. Down the hill and the insects had their solo until a helicopter added their tones. Street lamps shifting through the trees, the chopper fading ... all the while Sun Ra's rhythm section playing in my head.

While Sun Ra faded I turned the corner to have my feline stalker pass me once again. She took rest upon a car roof and watched me do Qi Gong in the street.

Relaxed and refreshed I came inside with my guitar patiently waiting in the black reclining chair. I sat with her, with Gabrielle, with Uncle Syl ... I played some more. The form whispering; me listening; fragments coming to life. I wish to receive this gift, to share with my family, with those who will listen. Now I will begin again.

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