Monthly Archive for January, 2009

A night and a day

I’m at the concert hall, listening to Beethoven’s violin concerto. He’s invincible.

After the interval, the Alpine Symphony by Strauss. With Beethoven lingering on me, I can’t bear it. I try to retreat into my head, listen to the music playing there, but the orchestra is blaring. In the last movement, an organ comes in, chilling me. I notice the skirt of the girl playing second violin. Black chiffon, mournful. I feel stricken with grief.

When I get home, an alarm has gone off in a neighbouring apartment. I can hear it quite loudly in my bedroom. I listen to the concerto again and again on my computer, played by great artists: Mutter and Karajan, Vengerov and Rostopovich, Repin and Gergiev, Perlman, Oistrachk. I’m on some sort of high. I find an interview with Vengerov and Rostopovich while recording this very concerto. I love the way Vengerov interacts with Rostopovich. The way he says: “Oh Maestro, please let me learn from you, I want you to teach me so much.”

Continue reading ‘A night and a day’

How I started writing

I had just dropped acid – Pauline and I had internalised it in beer. I observed the world from inside a fish bowl. The street was quiet, and I craved sound, so I started tapping my oversized amber ring on shutters as we walked. I spotted a red Tayto wrapper on the ground, picked it up, held it to my ear, and played it. Something was following us, so I stopped playing my crisp packet. The thing made squelching noises as I walked and stopped when I stopped.

“Pauline, something is following us. I want to meet it.”

Pauline pushed me on. We walked the five miles home. There was a layer of frost on the ground, my breath was visible, my hands were electric blue hands, and I had blue fingers. It was the day after I took LSD that I began to write.

Our roommates were in bed when we arrived home. I attempted to make toast but the bread kept eating every layer of butter I put on.

“Lets make noodles,” Pauline said. “They’ll feel like worms.”

We stood in the kitchen spitting out noodles onto the floor. Then we opened the back door and released them.