When I’m in a silent room, I play Rhapsody in Blue in my head and chatter my teeth to the beat. Side to side, front and back, furiously tapping like keys on a baby grand. Crescendo’s, marcato’s, diminuendo’s and everything in between. Gershwin: avec dental accompaniment.
Oftentimes Alex will talk to me about meditating. About clearing ones mind. Of taking a few moments, seconds, minutes to have absolutely no thoughts. I’m entirely positive that I’m made of such stuff that makes this exercise physically impossible.
Somewhere in my neurotic, anxious, hyperactive mind I will always, always have a thought. More likely, thoughts. I never stop.
And, yet, I don’t care to stop. My body finds solace in the pandemonium of my mind. Swirling through too fast to keep track, bouncing from memory to memory with absolutely no significant path, it stays busy upstairs. My stream of consciousness is nothing more than insubstantial conversations sewn together in a patchwork of ideas unique to just me.
And meanwhile, while the world around me quiets to stark silence, I strike up the philharmonic orchestra and begin my composition.
(and yes, I am aware that philharmony isn’t technically a word…)