just for pleasure
To start the morning I wanted to listen to some music
completely outside of my research,
! just for pleasure!
Youtube suggested Unternational performance in Tel Aviv (by Psoy Korolenko and Daniel Kahn)
I enjoy a bit of it with morning coffee
A bit more for lunch
All my breaks throughout the day are filled with their clever multilingual puns, the (in)direct political message on the verge of a joke, the artful silliness of their music, meaningful glances and gestures, the creative energy of musicians who are simply enjoying themselves.
The problem is - I kept thinking how I could write a piece about this - because - since I am enjoying the performance so much, it must be a piece of artfulness that needs to be presented (at a conference, in a journal), where people who like to ponder the aspects of “genuine art” can immerse into extracting more and more meanings from this meaningful “piece”…
To finish the day, I wanted to read something
completely outside of my research,
perhaps some poetry,
just for pleasure,
“pretty in the morning” by Steve Dalachinsky was at hand.
At some point I caught myself thinking - what kind of piece I would write about this?
The poem that transports me immediately into another world
Without unnecessary rhyme
With direct and urgent musicality
Silences at the right places
And repetitions
And repetitions
And then I found myself typing this -
And thinking - perhaps, to know how it feels - the energy of these artists in the same room, to have a chance to shake their hand, look into their eyes, and/or thank them for their performance - perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts of being here - and this makes me feel alive.
completely outside of my research,
! just for pleasure!
Youtube suggested Unternational performance in Tel Aviv (by Psoy Korolenko and Daniel Kahn)
I enjoy a bit of it with morning coffee
A bit more for lunch
All my breaks throughout the day are filled with their clever multilingual puns, the (in)direct political message on the verge of a joke, the artful silliness of their music, meaningful glances and gestures, the creative energy of musicians who are simply enjoying themselves.
The problem is - I kept thinking how I could write a piece about this - because - since I am enjoying the performance so much, it must be a piece of artfulness that needs to be presented (at a conference, in a journal), where people who like to ponder the aspects of “genuine art” can immerse into extracting more and more meanings from this meaningful “piece”…
To finish the day, I wanted to read something
completely outside of my research,
perhaps some poetry,
just for pleasure,
“pretty in the morning” by Steve Dalachinsky was at hand.
At some point I caught myself thinking - what kind of piece I would write about this?
The poem that transports me immediately into another world
Without unnecessary rhyme
With direct and urgent musicality
Silences at the right places
And repetitions
And repetitions
And then I found myself typing this -
And thinking - perhaps, to know how it feels - the energy of these artists in the same room, to have a chance to shake their hand, look into their eyes, and/or thank them for their performance - perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts of being here - and this makes me feel alive.