La Musica Che Adombra

La Musica Che Adombra
The music that overshadows

Today we edited a piece of footage with this sweet old man making and playing what is effectively two crap recorders, while outside the beginnings of a monsoon swept the pavement clean I was struck by the image of the old man's rough hands rubbing the flute smooth, ever since we started watching and editing this film a part of me longs to visit Calabria. I think I crave the heat.
In the film I see reminders of home, in the casual way in which the families work side by side,
This is a place where people grow old together.
While Zoë worked. I let my mind sprawl, blocking the cold with my thoughts wondering what I will do with the rest of my life

I WANT to write
I WANT to make
La musica che adombra
I WANT to take a line
And speak it in a room
Where people are moved
I WANT my art to matter
I WORRY that I have
Nothing real to say
That
In the room where people are moved
I am a mute
I LOVE the physicality of theatre
The
Way that when the lights dim
We wish to believe
Theatre
A secular chapel
Where we give tongue
To the mirror of nature
We pay lip service in place of prayer
To Brecht and Shakespeare
To past and present
To truth and deception
We bow our heads
To the altar of "if"
And all of a sudden
We are a room of
The moved
Making la musica
Che adombra.