Tuesday, August 27, 2013

I traveled back into the alps for an exquisite concert last week - to Gstaad and the Lauenen chapel where texture and daylight stir and splinter, and candles warm stone walls at nightfall.

Surrounded by people, I was alone; enfolded in music, I sat in silence. 

I climbed the ancient stairs to watch while his fingers made art on white keys. His mind was in a place I could not access as the masters within him resisted being conjured up on such a lovely day - his intensity to force their hand imposed a saturation within that quiet place such as I have rarely felt.

What is art if not the sound of a consuming soul?




5 comments:

TexWisGirl said...

for a moment, you drew us into that place with you.

Petrus van Zyl said...

great post. you made it so real with words and image

Southern Lady said...

Lovely images you've created in my mind. I just stopped by to say "hello". It has been forever since I have blogged. I didn't realize how much I missed my blogging friends until now. God Bless! -Carla

Michael Rowland said...

Wonder moody photo, would love to hear the sounds you heard there, thanks

Evi said...

Quelle belle photo !