12 юни 2009

A Modern Mariachi

- And you? What'd you do?
I was sitting on the grass for some time now. Listening to him play an old guitar - hidden by a hat and somewhere in his own worlds. It was a beautiful early summer afternoon and relaxing on a meadow seemed like the only sane thing to do. My thoughts had flown too and I stumbled in the response.
- Uhm..like work or... - I thought for a second. - I think I'm looking for inspiration.
He just shrugged, smiled lightly and played a slow chord string by string.
- Any luck?
- Rarer than I'd like to.
This time he just laughed.
- What? It's not easy.
- Oh I'm sure it isn't. It's just... - another minor chord. He pressed his hand against the strings, still smiling. - Looks like you're trying to see your ears... and succeed, yet rarely.
He looked around slowly, like trying to smell something.
- You know, inspiration is a twisted word. Makes you think it is something you possess. But inspiration rather is something that you do now with full devotion and care. It's something that you are... in a way. And you simply can not be it while you're busy looking elsewhere. Don't you think?
- Well... makes sense.
- Look the guitar for example. Now it is the most important thing in the whole world. I press a string with one finger, I pick it with another and ...
As he let go his finger off the string a bold sound flowed out, vibrating, shaking the air around me. It resonated with the sun rays going through the branches of the trees, danced with their shadows chasing each other all around. It mixed with the humming of the insects, screams of the children and the soft wind going through the grass bellow. Suddenly it imbued everything around and synchronized it in that very moment. Then, becoming gentle and softer it shoot up to twirl with the clouds above.
- We both experience a miracle. Now...

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