Pieces of mind

Piano man

I walk towards the center of a stage with red velvet curtains pulled up on either side. I’m clean shaven, in black suit with coat tails and shiny black shoes to complete the ensemble. I make it to center stage and bow to an empty theatre. I sit down at the most beautiful grand piano I’ve ever seen in my life. And then I begin to play, every chord flowing completely on its own. This is it, my arena. I have played for stadiums and I have played for one. But never have I played simply for the joy of the sounds. There is no sheet music. There is no conductor or coach; there is only the will of the chord and the passion for the sound that lives in me.

This sound is what has been missing. There have always been songs to play and performances as well as thousands of hours of practice to get things right. But never have I ever had the inclination to just play in the ultimate enclosure and compass of focus. This is why I’m here. This feeling that only comes from the moment somebody gets that inner call to be and give everything to a task that is everything and yet nothing at the same time. Truthfully there is no one to record or hear this sound to be repeated and heard again and again. But it does not change the beauty of this moment when everything is being pushed, every faculty of my being and all my knowledge being compounded and every emotion ringing loud and clear.

Whispering...screaming…coaxing… the chords ring out with my very essence. I feel bristles on my face. That’s strange. I shaved just this morning or was it this morning? How long have I been playing?

I’ve heard tell that master craftsman usually have that one piece or crafted item that stands before all others before and after. Truly it is a rare gift to be able to witness or share in such a moment but sometimes that one piece of creation happens in places or circumstances that truly cannot be witnessed, seen, heard or understood. And when they see the results, truly they cannot believe. He did that with only that? He came from there and *made it there?

There is nothing like those moments where you truly surpass your limits and reach the mountain top. There haven’t been many moments in my life where I’ve been lucid and clear headed enough to see the path before me and have the full resolve and strength necessary to walk it to whatever end. No one else can truly understand that sudden flash of clarity when you realize the music is all that matters.

I realize there is a thin line and strange duality that exists between the inner and outer perceptions of clarity and craziness and that these personal moments are meaningless in the grand scheme of the outside world, but rarely do artists think or expect to receive rewards or compensation in moments like this. For once it’s not about anyone else. There are no tickets to sell or expectant fans waiting with anticipation. The board is clear and this theatre is empty. no one will hear this sound and yet It will always mean everything to someone like me who only wishes to do what he is meant to do. What he was created to do.

Still, I play the well-tuned piano, the surrounding lights focused and trained on me, the empty seats hidden in darkness. The echoes bouncing from wall to wall. My hair is inching down my face and sweat is soaking my shirt. I’m a bit tired; how long have I been playing this song? I open my eyes and see cracks opening and widening in the walls. The limits are off, this is it my greatest work. Play on…my heart says PLAY ON! I feel electricity around me while cracks appear in a circle around the piano and me. Slowly I start to feel me, the floor underneath me and the piano begin to rise. I Ignore it. The song is most important. There can be no distractions right now. The cracks in the walls start to break, light pierces in, and the world starts spinning. The chords grow ever louder, more intricate, more beautiful and as I rise higher and higher my inner voice says more, we have not yet reached or surpassed our limits, we can go on, we can do better, we can go faster. PLAY!!!!

I throw my head back, hair falling to my shoulders, beard covering my face and the most absolutely beautiful sound of the greatest song never heard escapes from my lips and melds so perfect and completely with the music that I cannot truly tell the difference. I sway back and forth on the bench as the building and walls crumble around me, letting the light shine and the darkness ebb. Soon I feel the notes resisting me, pushing back, my body fighting me, fatigue catching up to me, begging for relief. Not yet. Do they not see its almost done, the song is nearly at the c****x the notes are nearly there. This is that one moment as a master craftsman where I can do something so amazing that people will never believe it came from me. now is not the time to be a shrinking violet. I must push through my limits and finish the masterpiece. Damn the fatigue.

Never have I ever been so sure that I am exactly where I need to be, doing exactly what I need to do following the path before me to whatever end. I lay my life at the feet of this piano, and I will not falter; there is music to be made. There is music being made. Oh, I wish someone could hear it. I imagine the sound and sight would be wasted, ridiculed by those who have never heard or seen anything beyond what they want. But for those who can hear this may be exactly what they need to truly step further down their own paths find and create their own masterpieces whether they are celebrated for them or not. If I had a wish, it would be that they all break out of their own empty theatres into the light and play something so beautiful that their soul can never again shift away from the peace that surpasses all understanding.

The notes calm a bit as I reflect deeper into what is actually happening in this moment. This is creation. I feel closer to God than ever before and in my heart, I am both grateful and sad with the temporary grace and power lent to me for just this moment. I get to show my ass. My voice falters a bit as a chuckle escapes. I notice my throat is dry, my clothes are soaked in sweat, the legs of the bench I’ve been swaying on are wobbling. The notes I’m playing are starting to lose their tone and yet still I’m not quite there yet. Just hold on everybody, I’m almost there. My Limits were surpassed ages ago, but I can still do more.

The theatre is destroyed. Light is everywhere. I can see everything, the earth, trees, water and heavens; higher I go, ever higher breaching the clouds. My heart gives out and starts to shut down, the breath leaves my voice. My fingers lock up and my hair is dirty and matted. I slump over with the final note crashing and I feel a hand on my shoulder and a voice without sound or language say …

“Well done”