Composition

Tonight I listened to Joel Long read selections of his poetry at a creative writing conference that the university is presenting. His writing gently grasps you and before you are quite aware of how you arrived, you find yourself in the middle of places that seem to you only dreamt of; places both real and imagined, or so unreal they could only have been conjured by the fervor of fury or besotted of the small things our aging minds collect from childhood.

I was immediately intrigued when I heard that the title of one of his collections is Chopin's Preludes. For each of Chopin's 24 Preludes, he has provided his own accompaniment. He has produced art as fine as the one whom he interprets. We spoke afterwards and I told him how I have now infected my daughters with love for Chopin and that when they were small, I would frequently play Chopin's Ballades for their passage into slumber. As we talked, he wrote. I paid and walked the spangled sidewalks to the parking lot.

When I returned home, I decided to read his written rendering of my favored composer while also listening to Martha Agerich perform the magic of the music. Opening the book to the title page, I found inscribed: "For Rae, for listening at night time...when the children are nearly asleep." And, For tonight, I thought, when I am not nearly, but very near sleep myself.