The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

At 75, my life in qin

I began at 11:39 to midnight, ended at 11:57. Qin music, and I
was thinking, the last moment of a birthday which speaks of
sadness, darkness, rupture. No matter what, this. So as to think
through, in this music, that this is my life. Playing, I was
aware of. And mono no aware of. Mind and hands together, not a
wrong note. But my life. So a tag or label to leave behind. And
I consider this an inspiration. Such delicate wood, strings.
Such a moment as once in my life. This, this piece, interval, a
summing-up. Or diminution before the fact. But a summing up. I
cannot play better than this. I cannot do more than this. Guard
this music with your life. It is guard music. It is what I have
always felt and said, music is a problem. As am I.

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