Substance
Later in the night. At a different place. Firecrackers and nondescript explosives going off every which where. Rain. Humidity. The fireworks on the telebision at the bar were made more interesting to me when people showed up to watch them. To watch the fireworks.
Nothing else happened tonight. Not to me. I played through the Bach WTC II tonight, spending most of the day on the G Minor Fugue from Book II. The G Minor fugue from Book II is, I believe, the most fun of all the WTC fugues. It plays like a dance, it feels like a race. No, wait, the other way around. It plays like a race, it feels like a dance.
Those pieces start to feel like objects in my hands. Complex structures. Some mornings they feel like intricate material objects, other days they feel like mud in my hands.
It is tempting to feel that control over the sound and notes of these pieces equals the craftsmanship of a physical object. That temptation disappears the moment the music stops, and I find that I have control over nothing.
Poof.
