I went to the piano to play a little and felt like reading a Chopin Mazurka that I love but never played before. I started reading it and suddenly heard the rain on the window... just in time... You may find it foolish, but I felt connected to Chopin wherever he was when he wrote this. Then, as I kept on playing, and some thoughts flew through my head, about things I read from around the world, about the pandemic, political arguments, and future uncertainties... I thought to myself, how small we really are, about this rain, connecting people everywhere, through time, or the sun, and the wind... and nature, looking down at us, with our minuscule problems, which are so great in our eyes, while it continues, uninterrupted. And yet this Chopin Mazurka, as small as it is, expresses so much, as we feel so intensely. So beautiful. Touching. We are children, at the end of the day, no matter how old, or evolved... and I can't help but loving every flawed part of us, and being very grateful for the universe's tolerance and affection towards us in our battles. Somehow, I feel, that even in our struggles, we are very lucky.
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I had these thoughts and wrote what I thought, after playing the beginning... I didn't even look or think about the ending yet... but there you go: the constant A, first only in the left hand, and then echoing in the right hand's upper embellishment as well, through all of the chromatic and harmonic changes, anxious negotiations and pleas. (However, the middle section is major, and the sun came out here and warmed my back for a few seconds too, reminding me of what my teacher used to say about Mozart, how there is always a smile next to the tear. an enigmatic existence. That's life, I guess.)
(August 2020)