Yesterday I went to the clubhouse (that's what they call the central hang-out office gathering place building here) to play the piano. Hadn't played for a few weeks, and I was really in the mood. So I played for a while, got my fingers moving, had a good time. After about half an hour I turned the lights off and kept playing. There's got to be some sort of learning benefit to that, I figure. So I play everything I can play by memory. After a while I hear the door open and a girl comes in and lays down on one of the couches and tells me to keep playing. So I do. I play, we talk a little, I play some more, it was a grand time, ended up being probably 40 minutes, just sitting and playing and talking quietly in the dark. At 7 o'clock more people came and turned on the lights and we had family home evening and went ice-skating.
Later that night I lay in bed, musing on the singularity of the scene. 40 minutes, serenading a girl in the dark, without any idea of who that girl is. I still don't know who it was, or if she knew who I was. Talk about sublime.
songs, school, and growing
13 years ago
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P.S. Since writing this post, I found out that the word sublime doesn't at all mean what I thought it did. I always thought it was like 'surreal' except different. Turns out it's more like 'exalted.' Huh!
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