night thought for the day

nights come quietly in the mountains.

with trails of silver mist and fairest snow flakes, the dusk falls on the fragments of the day's sun- and without any announcement, it is here- night.

in 2009, for both residencies, i was fortunate to have late practice buddies.  we mainly left notes on one another's doors, encouraging, nudging and joking all the way through the night, looking into this craft of arts, hoping to get closer to it, as the air cooled and the stars came up.

after all these time, here i am once again, writing in the night, surrounded by big, monumental mountains. elemental. primeval.  though this time, the stay is short and i am night-buddy-less. that's alright- especially in company of greats such as mozart, poulenc...

today i witnessed live arts- at the mid week series @ rolston hall. the residents show themselves to the public in many different concerts here- self-directed concerts, midweek wednesday concert, the big friday concert and yes, canmore bi-weekly, to name a few.  some are shy, some are slightly anxious.  a few bold ones as well. the audience is always ecstatic.

coming from the school/institution environment, i was refreshed about 'what (we try to) do.'  people who comes to the residencies are slightly abnormal i think.  people who are willing to ditch the daily pressure of- whatever it may be- the chains of obligations. we leave all of that to come here. that makes this place perhaps greatly artificial. but this change is amazing in a sense that it opens different channels of individuals.  and yes, it is easily perceivable in performances, conversations and interactions.

but perhaps the most important thing of today may be the conversation with caretaker kiddo who shyly opened the door to help (me) tidy my studio.

she somehow had a hint of sorrow in her beautiful doe eyes.

how are you doing, little lady?

slowly the stories came.  over eight years of love, she left it.  and came another- alas, she had to leave that after a lengthy period of questions and sadness.  she is in banff, trying to figure it all out. one day at a time. she likes being here because she is surrounded by beautiful things (music, visual arts, dance-) and that even though she's just a worker, that she could also make 'art' by putting herself into her tasks, however mundane it may appear to be. but once in awhile she thinks of these great experiences of her life and it can hurt-

lady, you and us, all of us.

we all live with trials and failures.  losses beyond words that lingers throughout our short lives. i cant say i understand but i dare try to sympathize.  however, let's not lose the hope- we live at the present. one day at a time. perhaps a heavy heart today. may be it will lift. even if it were to stay for a bit, at least we still have hearts.  and yes, hearts do demand great things from soft flesh- however, through such expenses, we can be richer and beautiful- truly living, with humour, sense of acceptance and eyes open for the simple beauty that surrounds us.

big tears.

tis fine. one day at a time.

so here i am, in the quiet night mountain, listening to mozart's gran partita (which i deem as one of the greatest compositions ever) as i was missing the voices of woodwinds (none here at the moment), contemplating the answerless question: how shall i live today?

the big blanket of velvety blue is now speckled with brightest stars.

perhaps it's alright that i cannot answer this today.
may be it is time to dissipate the day.
with the melody of the oboe soaring through time and space, bidding you all good day with much love from this wee monkey, barely visible in midst of great mountains and great people.
i am happy here. i hope you are also happy this moment.

1 comment: