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The sound of silence

The stillness of furniture makes me uneasy. If I notice it, it means it is too silent.

To focus, I need the murmur of indistinguishable sounds of a café, or better yet, music that lets my thoughts hook upon it... unnoticed...pianissimo.

I remember Maya Angelou saying that in order to write, she needed to quieten a part of her brain. She did it with music. I know what she means. Because in the silence, this little part of the brain, a needy show-off, keeps interrupting, impatiently tapping its fingers and its toes. DO NOT IGNORE ME. It pleads, whines, yells, cajoles, argues, and begs.

But music makes it go underwater and there are only bubbles as it mouths the urgent pleas.

Today, the 21st of June, the Summer Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere and the Winter Solstice in the Southern Hemisphere (thus both the longest and the shortest day), at the fête de la musique, I tip my hat to the calmer of my mind and the soother of my being.

Tonight, I will meander the streets of Paris - listening, dancing, and leaning in as notes hit crescendos and voices come together. Not always in tune but always in good spirit.

As a little boy once said, Let the wild rumpus start!

And so it shall.

And so it shall.