Still annoyingly sniffly today. I feel generally more well than the past few days, but nose and throat remain congested and breathing remains difficult. I generally feel like I did exactly a week ago. I can only hope that things get better rather than remain in cycle. It appears that I can overcome this infection, I could hardly trouble the medical services in these difficult times, but the sniffling and congestion remains an energy sapping annoyance.
Anyway, cultural developments. I watched the first half The Passion on Anna last night, one of my favourite Bergman films. I watched it in tribute to the great Max von Sydow who died yesterday. If any actors were the face of Bergman; Max and Liv Ullmann were, with Erland Josephson and Bibi Andersson making up the classic quartet. Max von Sydow's performance in The Virgin Spring was brilliant, that film was one of Bergman's most Shakespearean.
I found it hard to breathe at night and woke at 1:30 or so, staying awake until 5am or so. I use this time mainly for mental exercise; I rarely read or listen to music, and never get up. I sometimes mentally practice piano or guitar, and often consider the next day's work, in this case the music for Mister And Mrs Knife Thrower.
I got up and got myself into music mode by listening to the last thing I played and recorded; a piano improvisation in C-minor, which I thought was good enough to set some words to. I added some words and strings to it, the words of the my circus poem Falling. The mood is gentle and romantic, like some of the dreamy Fall in Green tracks. This music is easy, but pleasant, so worthy of inclusion. I hope that over time, my playing of it, my sophistication will improve. The recording was done by 12pm.
I went out, shopping for things beginning with 'ch', and felt better for the brisk walk.
I then played a finale to the Knife Thrower. The extant music, also dreamy in feeling and somewhat lacking in melody, needed more melody and structure, so I used the timing of the first part to create a more melodic climax. The mood of the poem itself is dreamy, so everything works appropriately. The creation of art is deciding the feeling, then manifesting it. I now feel a need for more variety in these tracks.
Most of the emotions of the day have been anxiety about Coronavirus and its potential effects of my family and friends. I feel I must document these times artistically and will. Here is the first draft of an opening poem:
Blood In The Wind
There is blood in the wind,
hand over tumble,
the crack of dust,
its iron terror
is coughed at our gums.
The rats writhe, wide eyed.
The maypole is wrapped in rags,
useless flags.
The horizon burns.
The air hangs with strange screams.
We cower and wait.
We cower and wait.
