LJ Idol Home game: A Moment of Bliss
Oct. 12th, 2008 01:37 pm[Playing the
therealljidol home game.]
The moment of bliss I best remember is not a moment of grandur, and yet is it everything, every moment of beauty I have experienced. Bliss came when I heard a piece of music played by four men in a tiny concert hall in Pittsburgh. The song was "Punta Patri," played by the California Guitar Trio with Tony Levin in the Frick Fine Arts building several years ago. It has no lyrics.
I cannot describe that music to you, not the way it made me feel.
Hearing it was like dawn glinting off of waves crashing on sand, like driving over West Virginia in the autumn. The sound tasted like the sharp tang of fresh lemon. It felt like standing in a waterfall or in the middle of a snow-crusted field lit only by moonlight.
I could smell the first hint of spring in the air, that heady warm earthen scent that tells you winter has let go. I saw the sun crest over Cappadocia while flying in a hot air balloon, felt the wondrous panic in the moment before gravity catches as I stepped off the high-dive... and the pang of regret when I realized that I would never again have that exact moment.
It was the cumulation of those moments, condensed into four minutes of pure bliss, with Tony Levin on bass. I could have died then, and not regretted a single moment of my life.
As the sound faded away that night, I knew I would never hear it again, not like that. Yes, I have the album, but the track is just a reminder of that single moment when I could feel the music and barely breath as I watch fingers fly across strings.
I do catch strains of that time in other moments. They are the pearls of bliss strung on the line of a song.
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The moment of bliss I best remember is not a moment of grandur, and yet is it everything, every moment of beauty I have experienced. Bliss came when I heard a piece of music played by four men in a tiny concert hall in Pittsburgh. The song was "Punta Patri," played by the California Guitar Trio with Tony Levin in the Frick Fine Arts building several years ago. It has no lyrics.
I cannot describe that music to you, not the way it made me feel.
Hearing it was like dawn glinting off of waves crashing on sand, like driving over West Virginia in the autumn. The sound tasted like the sharp tang of fresh lemon. It felt like standing in a waterfall or in the middle of a snow-crusted field lit only by moonlight.
I could smell the first hint of spring in the air, that heady warm earthen scent that tells you winter has let go. I saw the sun crest over Cappadocia while flying in a hot air balloon, felt the wondrous panic in the moment before gravity catches as I stepped off the high-dive... and the pang of regret when I realized that I would never again have that exact moment.
It was the cumulation of those moments, condensed into four minutes of pure bliss, with Tony Levin on bass. I could have died then, and not regretted a single moment of my life.
As the sound faded away that night, I knew I would never hear it again, not like that. Yes, I have the album, but the track is just a reminder of that single moment when I could feel the music and barely breath as I watch fingers fly across strings.
I do catch strains of that time in other moments. They are the pearls of bliss strung on the line of a song.