Introducing Frederic Chopin - Aesthetic Genius

I am sitting here as the world calmly fades into the pastelled background of another gorgeous Autumn sunset, watching outlined grey clouds provide the skeleton-like framework that contains this present scene; a scene that i can feel more deeply and completely than i'd ever be able to see. And seeing it is moving and striking enough. Striking the chords of my human existance much in the same way that those genius musicians of the 16th and 17th and, especially, 18th and 19th centuries struck chords in their beloved instruments, providing the framework that allows me to understand and communicate life in a way that, otherwise, would be impossible. A framework that is not skeleton in any form.

Chopin's Nocturne #1 in C#- leaks into the emptiness of this tiny, whitened room that holds my head and my body. But somewhere above is my mind, floating on the harmonies of his bewitching, melancholy passage. I swear i can smell it, taste it, feel its wafting magic invade every second of this moment. His music far surpasses simply the tangible.

The Warsaw native Frederic Chopin is by far my favourite pianist, favourite composer, favourite musician. He is a musical genius needing to be, at the very least, considered by anyone seeking aesthetical experiences. This current nocturne that i am listening to surpasses even the greatest works of - Liszt, Tchaikovsky, Schubert - all other musical masters in the same periodic box as Chopin. And it is by no means his greatest composition - not even close.

I wonder what Bach, who some say so strongly influenced Chopin in terms of composition, if given the opportunity, would think of Chopin's music. I wonder if he would realize how his own similar compositions fade in comparison to what Chopin was able to produce years later. I wonder if he would have incredulously realized how much he had missed in structuring his compositions such as he did; how he missed developing a language that, fortunately, Chopin was later able to develop in his place.

That being said, there are definite basis of comparison that would, easily, put Bach as the superior. In terms of aesthetics however, Chopin reigns supreme.

Travels of the Brilliant

Now here's an absolutely brilliant poet at, arguably, his best:

somewhere i have never travelled
- E.E. Cummings

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

...like i said, complete lyrical brilliance!

Why i am starting to despise flying...

So today i flew to Winnipeg...landed...and then found out West Jet lost my luggage. Yah, not too impressed. i am starting to really not like domestic airline companies...