analytical Q May-Aug 2000 Sept-Dec 2000 Jan-Apr 2001 Discussion

The Diary
Anne Ku

30 March 2001 Friday





From the 22nd floor of my hotel room, I can almost see the entire city of Amsterdam, at least the portion south of here. At seven this morning, it was covered in thick fog.

Beneath the fog, it is hard to see anything or have any idea when it would clear. Above it, I could see the movement of the fog. Looking to the left, I see part of it clearing. There is hope.

An hour later, it is almost all gone. I am sitting here, waiting for spring to declare its arrival in this city of canals, trams, and Van Gogh.

Last evening, I joined strangers in a private home concert. The cellist from Mallorca, flutist from Amsterdam, and pianist from Houston improvised like they were old friends. Yet they had barely gotten to know each other. Making music is making friends. Music brings such intimacy so immediately.

The fog this morning reminds me of the double rainbows I saw the other day. It's so easy to get lost in the fog and get caught up in the day to day. We need to lift ourselves out, above, and beyond to see hope. In such uncertainty, we can still find the musicians among us. In pursuit of music, we seek that certainty called intimacy.

I would like to know someone so well that there's no need for words. It's like telepathy. Making music together is one such kind of nonverbal communication.
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