Do you ever wake up with a song trailing through the mist of a dream, just a thin thread of notes left behind, leaving you yearning for the rest? That happened to me this morning. Four notes. Just four notes, dangling in my memory.
Not long ago, I started a conversation with a friend about dreams. I used to remember mine, richly, fully, deliciously, long complicated narratives full of clues about the meaning of life, the meaning of the universe....now I remember bits, pieces, and mostly, nothing at all. I have been missing my dreams, wondering where they went? Is my brain too full of climate change calamity? I started thinking about the lost dreams, and then confided to my friend how much this concerned me. In a real act of magical living, my dreams began to return, hesitant, shy, but still: glimmers...Perhaps there are times when it is better not to simply accept absence, but say: I miss you. I have missed you, dreams.
There is nothing like a long sleep, and even better, a long sleep that leaves one much to think about. This morning's four notes descending from the Heavens? I caught the rest of them thanks to Maria Callas. Of course tears are coursing down my cheeks as I write. And while we're on it, don't miss the movie Quartet. Speaking of dreams...mothers...music...yearning and discovery. Good Morning!
And here is an even better link --a Callas performance at Covent Garden.