Monday, 20 June 2011

“The Dark eyes a year after”

He sat down, ordered a drink while searching for last dollars in his pockets. It felt like for the past two years nobody smoked in New York anymore. Where’s the gesture? He thought. What happened to the sparkle of a lighter, blinking through the gray wall of fog?
He saw T.S entering the stage, and the memory of passing him on the street of Warsaw appeared immediately. He didn’t dare to be one of the fans. The signs, the smiles.  A year ago. One year. At that time he knew every sound, every note. He listened to that album countless times, and yet it has still felt undiscovered.
The band started to play. Small round tables seemed to swirl in the air. One, two, three click, One. Two. Three click,.. Did he need anything else?
He felt the rhythm with his feet, the melody thrilling his neck. Magic of the lights drawing lines on the walls. Plain burgundy walls that will lose their charm in an hour. One hour of colors and shapes on their blank expressions. For one hour the whole place was set on magic. The magic of music, the magic of voices tearing the place apart. Where for this minutes passing the world would be gone and time would stand still. Disappeared in the small crowd. Disappeared in his own way. He let the sound in. Closed his eyes, just for a second, very much aware of his behavior. He wouldn’t like to look like one these serious people. Serious people that sit whole concert with their eyes closed and fingers held tight to the arm seat. One of those people that don’t smile at art, and make poses looking at books in bookshops.
He wished it was a movie. He’d watch it over and over again. Till scratches on the disc would start to damage the sounds.
Till vinyl breaks or till needle on the turntable collapses under the pressure of play it again.
Bass, the rhythm, the streets.
Drums, the rattle of trains.
Trumpet, the melody of pavements.
What if we put thousands of footsteps into one concrete sound?
What if we break the space into infinity?
There will always be color. There will always be energy.
He closed his dark eyes once again. A couple of hours before the dawn.

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