Never Mind the Piano

Come argue with me — we shall meet and wrangle — sparks will fly — candles will burn to their appointed ends and owl-eyed waiters will sweep the floors at dawn as we reel out onto the glossy streets, dazed with thought, rapt with fluidity, compatibility, intellect, imagination: the effortless conjunction — the final, silken pleasure of it all.

Or are you now too tired for that?How am I? Thriving, I think is the best word. Writing, dancing with uncommon lightness along the string of opportunities that unfold before me daily… Wales is glorious.

And all this time you have been in Espiritu Santo. I wish these places were like their names. Or maybe this was. Were you visited by the (or a) holy spirit? Did you become one?

Thank you for the music which sounds like the score of a Woody Allen picture… not the jazz intro but the story-line music. Slow, moody, sensuous strains — those dark smoky parties of the fifties — martini glasses on kidney shaped tables for some; eye contact, black wine and poetry for others. I love that sound.

It does amaze, yes, in its notational ability to remember, and perhaps to reinvent. I am inspired to download one of his collections from iTunes — a sentence I realize is not in keeping with its predecessor — it should have been “I’d like to buy the record.” But alas, they are not records anymore ~ only digital streams. No such thing as LPs.

I love my life here — I love the present moment — but it’s very, very good to remember with someone. Records and so much else.

And never mind the piano. You play other things so well.