This is a light that seeps, this music.
It’s not the most common thing anymore for me to practice solo Bach, but even after all this time it is something that seeps into the bones. Not at first of course, but gradually, as I discover the breath of it, and the shape (rise and fall, expand and contract.) As my muscles get used to the work, my body relaxes.
It is a seeking out of light, working on this music.
Each time I practice it, it is like this—the warmth and light working themselves past the tension. Why did I hate practicing so much for so long?
My goal for the performance is less about perfection than it has ever been—
only speak—
only follow the light through the trees,
only show them what you see.
And the night of the performance, what does it matter if I’m fluttering inside? It is all still there to seek out. This is what I determine before playing.
While I’m playing, I remember the lines from Hafiz I read earlier in the day:
God wants to see
More love and playfulness in your eyes
For that is your greatest witness to Him.
Yes. That.
