It is grey and rainy today. The air is damp and cold. Low clouds are getting hung up as they try to cross over the sturdy wall of mountains. Ice that has lain around for months is melting and disappearing into slushy puddles.
In my history of music class today we listened to Beethoven piano sonatas. I think he wrote them on a damp drizzly day just like this one. Not depressing, but contemplative. Big thoughts. As big as the thick swirls of clouds that lazily, but steadily, push against the rocks. It makes me want to go outside and breathe deep. Deep, deep down so that the moist rich air fills my lungs and replaces the dry and lifeless air of the classroom. More than Mozart, Bach, Haydn, or any of the other composers we have studied, I think Beethoven was really trying to say something with his music. I think he wanted people to really listen. Listen in the way that he still could even after he lost his hearing.
In my history of music class today we listened to Beethoven piano sonatas. I think he wrote them on a damp drizzly day just like this one. Not depressing, but contemplative. Big thoughts. As big as the thick swirls of clouds that lazily, but steadily, push against the rocks. It makes me want to go outside and breathe deep. Deep, deep down so that the moist rich air fills my lungs and replaces the dry and lifeless air of the classroom. More than Mozart, Bach, Haydn, or any of the other composers we have studied, I think Beethoven was really trying to say something with his music. I think he wanted people to really listen. Listen in the way that he still could even after he lost his hearing.
The next time you have a rainy day, turn on some Beethoven piano sonatas, take a walk among the puddles, listen, and see if you agree.
3 comments:
great post katie! You are so right.
Katie! I was sucked into your blog. I read all your recent posts, and I feel like I'm caught-up with your life. I'm going to figure out how to invite you to mine :) Anyway, we should really, really get together. I'm thinking either just the two of us or something with our men, too. Maybe something simple like Sunday evening dessert? Anyway, I love your blog!
I'm with you! Nearly every morning at 7am I open my front door and look out at Frary Peak on the Island and breathe deeply of cool, often damp, air. It's a delicious ritual!
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