Dream:
I am back, visiting my 8th grade classroom. The teacher and students are practicing for some school program. Afterwards I sit at the piano, which is very shinily, glossily black and has the extended keyboard of some Bosendorfers. The instrument is freshly, resonantly in tune, except for the bottom one-and-a-half octaves or so, the keys of which are brittle and loose. They are gilded like the top edge of old books and chaotically out of tune. These keys play their own music is what I say to myself.
Photo by Davo: inside the Holocaust Museum, Berlin, 2004
2 comments:
love the photo
Love this post. Beautiful, strange dream and picture.
Also just noticed that Gizzi's Outernationale is on your bookshelf. I read it last fall and it blew me away.
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