door

First of all, Happy birthday America!  Happy birthday to you who has the same birthday as America.  From the Baltic Sea to Blue Sea.

An envelop comes from Washington.

Summer is a melancholy time for me who is in “exile” in a sunny state.  The sun shines every day for 10 hours without a break.  I feel so dark in my soul, my lower self, because in this sun I’m held hostage inside of a house.  I don’t have an appetite.  I don’t want to go outside with the sun raiding on my skin, irritating my eyes.  I don’t want to ride in a car.  I don’t want to see a colored ballon.  I do want to taste some snow, rains, and some shades.  I want to be in Minneapolis, touching.

A small German recording studio asks me to write something for them on music.   I burst out laughing…who me?

Yes, you.

Wait a minute.  But how did you find me??

They said, through your blog.  You write in a strange a way and we like it.

I said, wow, I am really flattered.  But, I write like this because I don’t know any other way to write.  How is your English, can you tell that this writing is not “normal?”  But that’s not the reason that I can’t

No.  I cannot write about THIS music because…

The only thing more beautiful than the Law of Gravity, is this music – as Isaac Newton himself will tell you.

So what do you want me to say?

When Alexander Technique teacher Barbara has me on the table, and Bach Cello Suite 1 comes on, I am near tears.  I tell Barbara, what you are saying, what you are doing, is so poetic.

When breathes become one, it is a very, very rare moment.

Thank you, sirs, very, very much, for asking.  I’ll think about whether there is anything I can write about this music without going nuts from trying too hard, like Icarus never reaching the the Sun of the right words.  He ignored instructions not to fly too close to the Sun, and the melting wax caused him to fall into the sea where he drowned.