The Rach Journal
Designed and sold by butchart
$19.48
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$19.48
Product features
- 128 pages
- 90gsm paper stock
- Wrap around hardback cover
- Fully printed design on the front and back
- Available in a selection of ruled, graph or blank pages
- Since every item is made just for you by your local third-party fulfiller, there may be slight variances in the product received
The Rach
words....... It's one of those memories that will stick with me for the rest of my life.... one of those where everything comes togehter perfectly and unexpectedly...like from another place.. prepackaged in karmaville and sent fed exed straight to your senses marked for your soul only.........you are convinced the world has taken a breath and this one single moment in time and place was orchestrated entirely for your benefit........ it had been a crazy weekend at our guesthouse,,,, running a gay b&b every weekend is crazy, but this particular one had been off the chain for far to long...... i won't bore you with the details, for it is a small part of my total recollection.... suffice it to say that 'i had had enough' long before the last guest checked out............. the inn sat on the beach , the front faced the ocean and had a long glassed porch that ran the entire width.... on sunny days it was a great place to congregate.... wicker furniture in subtle ocean hues was cast about in groupings for conversations and gropings.........but the day i hold dear in my memory was one of those gray ocean days.... you know the kind.... the ocean is that dark steel blue ..approaching deep gray.... the sun had failed to appear due to a solid cloud cover.... not those billowy white clouds that slowly sail by on brighter days with max parrish blues and subtle pinks rimming their edges... the clouds this day were one solid band of every gray in the spectrum of grays........ but so subtle were the changes in tone and hue that a casual observer might think that it had been painted.....no movement..... but ahhhh... ..the movement was exquisitely slow...... it was about11;30 in the morning... check out was 11:00 and i did what i normally had done on checkout sundays...the inn was empty and my mode of operation was to grab that fifth cup of coffee...light a cigarette ..head to my favorite chair on the porch and die................. i'll never know if it was the mood of the sky...the mood from the night before and the morning that followed....or the mood of my weary being.. but i was in the mood for rachmaninoff.... in particular, his piano concerto #2 in C minor...interpreted and played by a master pianist , Vladimir Ashkenazy.......... for those of you that aren't familiar with his works... rachmaninoff is perfection in his weaker times and certainly nirvana at his best.....one of those russian composers that fill you with sweet sorrow and angst and beauty and vision.............. sweet sweet passion........ gut wrenching passion..............there are times when my heart aches in tune with his melodic story of love and loss.....wonder and awe........................ on this sunday morning i didn't ease into it as i normally would...from the moment i hit the play button, i was one with both the music and the marvelous view in front of me........... everything softened just a degree or two... ..like the blur control on the world view had been slid into the negative..... horizon line became ocean and the water the sky.........everything in close proximity seemed to melt way....the bright prints on the wall... the the teal painted slats on the old wooden floor...the windows themselves..........my concerns and worries over the past few hectic days faded away right along with my surroundings..... there was nothing there except my bone tired heart and mind....... even my body had taken a holiday from sensation....... it was somewhere near the beginning of the second movement where his passages become a little more lyrical..a little sadder... slightly more haunting....when the seagulls first appeared..... there were only two of them.... they entered the scene from the far regions of my left side...tiny specks way off in the distance...minute points of light in the sea of gray sky.......... they slowly floated their way closer to the shoreline until they were directly in front of my line of site..... hovering there in the air........ then their dance began.... by the time they had reached me their brightness had faded to yet a deeper shade of gray in the palette........ at first they spread out and circled each other in the air...in perfect timing....so one never could catch up with the other.....and as the music swelled to it's incredible heights those glorious birds soared along........ their circles became faster their altitude higher.... until i thought that they might be leaving me......... but as the piano and violin passage drifted back to softer strains those same glorious birds followed with their inflight ballet..... choreagraphed especially for me..... they stayed through the rest of the concerto... sometimes swirling while dipping their monochromatic wings from side to side...and other times they would simply spread their wings and glide in and out of the music.......in and out of all those grays........while the final notes of that beautiful music still hung in the air..... the two seagulls.... my two glorious dancers from the skies......faded back to where they came............i sat and hoped that they would return so i could thank them... a standing ovation of one........ but instead they went back to the gray......perhaps to lift some other soul's spirit down the shoreline....... all i could give them in the end was a few tears that ran down my cheeks as i sat in awe..... of those glorious birds... of that glorious gray sky...... of that glorious music.... ............and that was the day i fell back in love with rachmaninoff.
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