Those of us who know walk swiftly down the center aisle, dip a hand inside a pew and rotate the wooden latch. We genuflect, then swing the half-door open to a cushioned row. We sit and admire another section of the ivory reredos as the organist approaches the famous nocturne again.
Most afternoons the cathedral is his domain as he reworks phrases with different pedals. Tourists wander the outer aisles, let their flashes bounce off the altar, make sure they haven’t missed something grand, and pass each other like errant acolytes swishing down the opposite aisle. He seems not to notice - the short riffs continue. This is not a concert. There are concerts during lunch hours sometimes, but he plays best in the afternoon to a nave of randoms staring up at the columns with peeling paint from leatherette kneelers.
Sit close enough and you’ll sense the pressure from the massive pipes, the way subway trains feel through your shoes on the sidewalk. Bend your head, let the tears fall, there is no one here to see the middle of a song that will resolve, as sacred music does, on a major chord.
A few more days
A final Hi meeting
The local neighborhood bar has a quiet time between six and nine. It is a place that specializes in coffee, beer and seasonal menus. There is just enough of each for a satisfying snack and effective buzz. After the time when the laptop lids close and before the social gatherings start -- there is a sort of twilight*. Often this time is a fugitive ground rife with creative inspiration and meditative work -- of the kind that results in personal reward.*twilight may refer to civil, nautical or astronomical variety depending on your social or terrestrial condition
A man positions his mouse on the edge of his browser window. He clicks, holds and drags the viewport first left then right. The content of a video game promo micro site responds and adapts to the available space. To the man, this is more delightful than the game itself.
A man laboriously moves his piano down three levels onto the subway platform. Classic vocals and strided chords -- he played so well I swore he was blind. Oblivious to the heat on that August stage, he was most in touch with his audience -- whom he elevated with his music.
A woman should do exactly as she pleases no matter what a man may think.
As the Dalai Lama once said, "It is a time when there is much in the window, but nothing in the room."
"No one understands me," she said. Her grandmother was silent for a minute. It seemed she was searching for an answer in the star speckled sky. "But no one understands anyone in this world, darling. We are all unique. It is what gives us a sense of wonder."