Scene 24

There’s music to be heard, and there’s music to be banned. Mahler’s 9^th is sort of both. Its splendor is glittering in every note and yet the haunted feeling of destiny grasps every muscle of the pounding heart. I found Chailly’s version on SACD Friday, due to a plan change, and rushed home to listen to my 7^th collection of Mahler 9^th. Recording of 2004 is fantastic, it brings out the chills and pains of every corner, and my room was filled with darkness in the daylight. And it was the good Friday. What a joke.

Saturday was gorgeous. Sun was out eventually after all the rain. I found Jackson’s CDs for my cousin and bought the BBC session of Cocteau Twins. I got myself a copy of Thriller too. Pretty good album of all time. And then came the long drive home. Little Lamb was tame as usual, keeping my spirit as high as the speed. The night found us in Venice beach, taking pictures of invisible objects. Darkness after darkness I saw, and smelled. And I was constantly criticized for not knowing photography. “There’s no space over the head, the side body is being cut off”…Well needless to say I’m very centered on one form of art than the others. And we leaned over at the pier to watch the waves in deep dark water. The night was getting very chilly and mysterious. The wind, always whispered in my ears.

The recording session later on was a great joy. I betrayed my strong clinging to perfection and let it go, hoping to catch something more pure and natural. And I did. Watching Little Lamb swinging and shaking with my melodies was such a rewarding thing. And he sang in great indulgence, laughing ceaselessly, stretching the whole session to almost three hours. And three songs were made, I did background vocals for one of them, always hoping that there could be some ashes if one day, the bonding collapses again.

Fragrant morning. Easter was here, meaning nothing but a word with a capital E. We ate a simple lunch and watched Home Alone. His laughter almost made me feel that it was the best movie ever made. And he turned to me and showed that embarrassed look for his loud laughs and I said go on. Then we went to the Castle Park for mini golfing. The weather stayed amiable the whole time, and people were smiling around us. Watching four little kids having fun and I tried to picture my own childhood as one of them. But I lost the game before I knew, to this newbie, and we were making fun of it the whole time.

Soon we were warm in Borders drinking coffee, flipping through CDs and books that appear so scholarly on those wooden shelves. It wasn’t the same fun as digging stuff at Amoeba, and the price suggested so too. I found by surprise that the Yo-Yo-Morricone CD was released on dual side disc with 5.1 resolutions. And I took it without a thought. It was one of the highlights of my listening experiences last year. And I can still hear it from the other side of the phone when I talk to my parents. It was a soundtrack of sheer beauty and warmth. Just like the Story of the Weeping Camel. And I already promoted 5 copies of it last year. Interesting.

Dinner was lamb. Our lamb, always, no more no less. After I got back home I seated myself on the couch and played Yo-Yo-Morricone with thirst. Music from films that I’ve seen and not seen poured out, sounds getting reverbed in the room, heating up a moment, a heart, and a life. Cello can always solidify the atmosphere, and I had to light up a candle and my memories to keep air flowing. Malena’s theme was my favorite, Cinema Paradiso was the cutest, and Moses was the saddest.

Sunday night I came back to Mahler 9^th and fell asleep. When I woke up, cello music was in the living room. And I drove to school listening to Billy Jean. Here walking on campus I have CT around my ears. What a combo. And I suddenly remembered that one sentence to seal up this whole story, Krall singing- “The night becomes---the day”.