Muto's Moment #17

Release: Improvisation

Sometimes, the space between action and reaction,
Between input and output,
Or between one inclination and the next,
Is like the distance between c sharp and d flat
Or the gap between wood and metal, when a cymbal is struck -
So perfectly nonexistent,
It is a mystery as to where there was ever any room for decision.

Sometimes, one can occupy this space,
Where thought, doubt, and plan are lost
Like the division between two notes played with a slur,
Or the bar line between measures connected with a tie.

Sometimes, the joy of this infinite thinness
Between one thing and the next,
Is activated by the touch of a tender fingertip, with its spiral design,
To a metal string, with its intricate coils,
And the fingers are able to move so fast
That they eliminate the length between brain and hand,
Between finger and pick, between string and fret,
Between sound wave and ear, between axon and dendrite -
Until there is only a continuum of parts acting as one,
Working at the true speed of sound.


© 2011 Gregory Halloran

1:15 am The School Radio Station Plays Good Music?

So, once again, I arrive at the HAC past midnight to start working on my photography project. I am ready to stay up all night. I have my cell phone loaded with a perfect set of songs to keep me company in the claustrophobic echo chamber called the darkroom. I am actually looking forward to the hours of solitude, and the one inevitable interruption, when the janitor comes looking for trash and ends up witnessing a whirl of hair, thrashing about and beating its chest to the rhythms of Chris Adler, under the glow of an amber-colored safe light. Then, the smile on my face turns to shock when I enter the room and see that I am not alone.

To my surprise, I have a companion in the darkroom. I have never seen him before; he says he is from one of the other photo classes. "How late are you gonna be here?" I ask in a fake dialect of friendliness, a language that normally comes easily to me, when the enjoyment of my eardrums is not at stake. "Not much longer, this is actually my last print," he responds as he moves his paper to the tray of fixer. Excellent.

"You are listening to WXYC, the radio station of UNC Chapel Hill," the DJ announces over the radio. Not for long I think to myself, while my fellow student packs up and leaves. As my image turns crystal clear through the lens of the grain focuser, something amazing happens. The room starts to echo with the wailing voice of Robert Plant, singing I Can't Quit You Baby from the BBC Sessions. With the room now empty of intruders, I decide to match the wail of the Golden God. "Made me mistreat my only child..." The glow of the safe light is close enough to the shining stage lights of Albert Hall to let me pretend I am a fifth member of Led Zeppelin.

After three songs, the DJ comes back on. "I hope you appreciated that block of Zep as much as I did." Heyeah my ears exclaim. Just then, the same student I met earlier in the evening enters the room with a grin on his face. "Hey man, I don't know if you thought I was gone; I was trimming some prints outside." He chuckles, "I just wanted to say I enjoyed your little Zeppelin sing along session. I'm gonna head out now. Take it easy and good luck on your project."

I remember a time when that would have embarrassed me.

© 2011 Gregory Halloran