Sabbath is over by more than a hair. It’s over by a braided strand of hair coming over one shoulder or morning hair all wild and real or hair that may be thinning but is still there or hair that has been cut and donated to Locks of Love.
And although it is past, it is present. So many “breathless moments” continued through that day, it became impossible to measure them. Quantity and quality became abstract concepts with little meaning because it was all a seamless flow.
At 7 p.m., as announced, it was Beethoven’s ninth, and then it was Stravinsky’s Rite and both are calls to action. The first is a call to the action of acceptance. You see, we must choose to receive a gift, must decide to accept, and must have the capacity to recognize even before receiving and accepting the gift of Joy, the truest Joy—the kind that brings a smile, but more often for me brings me to tears. I swear, it makes me weep, and then I am quite prone to hitting a curb because there are no ditches on Shade.
And the Rite is a call to action of another kind. I may wait a little while longer.
Then it was a fabulous piece of polyrhythm and multi-rhythm that left me wanting more, a piece by Andy Akiho entitled 21:
The effortless syncronicty of two disparate meters and modalities stuns me.
Then, it was yet another gift!
And it just keeps coming. I should say “kept coming” because it is Sunday now and Sabbath is over. Before I close, I think I built a better mousetrap. Here is a picture:
And I got this today in a mailbox. Poor thing. I really doubt that I am the best. Top ten sure, but it is a little soon on Shade to be calling me the best. And she is not sure if I am even a man actually, might be a lady. Except she wrote “laddy” so forget any misgivings that I misgave, because rest assured I am both a man and a laddy. The best? If she thinks so, then it is so. Okay, I got that worked out . . .
And my final act on Sabbath was to attempt to do laundry. Now, I have done laundry many times, many times both metaphorically and otherwise. So, I started a load of things I might wear to church on Sunday.
And I know, it is Sunday! Stay with me, I am getting around to that . . .
Laundry: I started a load, and yea it is only a dollar, and yikes it takes quarters! But I had twelve of them so I started a load and went forth and back, checking on it. The last time I checked, I learned something. It is a good thing, but it is a current hassle what I learned. They mean what they say when they say this: “Laundry room closes at 10 p.m.” My clothes are still in the washer, and I will dry them in the morning, but I mean later this morning because IT IS ALREADY MORNING. Yes, it’s Sunday.
And that joy, oh, it is never going to stop.