I honour you, Father,
you are the white outline of a cloud and the wind that blows it away.
I thank you, Mother,
you are the petal of a flower that will dance in my belly forever.
Forever.
Oh, life, let yourself dance!
May I be a perfect reflection of you, of your love.
And so be it
Oh, father, who goes
mother, whom you welcome.
Thank you if I am in your grace.
May I dance and rejoice happily.
Happy with you. From you.
In the wind, in the sun,
in the eternal becoming.
Improvisations of the soul. We are trusting our deepest instincts, connected to the energy of the universe, living in the present moment. We were expecting no results, no challenge to do better or need to convince those who would have listened to us. Here and now, there is only absolute participation; moment by moment, open to welcome all the creative power of life.
Thus a few years ago ‘The word love’ project was born. We spent an afternoon with our friend Pat, aka Althair, improvising on some harmonic tracks, welcoming sounds and words. Pat sketched sound and rhythmic paths on which to improvise. A ‘tabla’, a ‘bansuri’: sounds that evoke distant lands. As we prepare, he checks the levels, asks us if they are okay. I watch my beloved partner, who gently mounts the ‘Keever’ and chooses a new reed. Then he takes his saxophone and hooks it to the black collar. He keeps it with care, with a particular love. In this way, he also learned to cuddle our daughter, thin and resigned after years of anorexia. We no longer know how to cure her and give her a breath of life, a mouthful of joy. But we trust these profound sounds and words. We are there, only with our art and our truth. We cry, laugh, scream, pray. Our Matilda must be reborn.
One last check of the microphone volume: Danilo and I look at each other; we observe our every gesture, and, in that instant, we entrust our cry of love to the improvisation of the moment. His notes are climbing towards infinity while I let slow and powerful words emerge with confidence and grace in front of the microphone. We both have thought: it is a prayer for her, our daughter. Danilo plays a theme. The most beautiful notes I have ever heard. And I, I let the voice of my soul speak. Or perhaps hers: the soul of our daughter. The soul of the world and a prayer for all going through this healing. Love.