April 16, 2008
Fantasy island
…listen
…about the musicDream vista.
So there we stood, the only two humans in sight. We were perched on the very end of a long dock in the early morning hours, staring out to nothing but water and little green isles. My gaze drifted to the sky as I searched for the tiny float plane that was to snag me off the island and bring me to Seattle, from where I’d then fly to Los Angeles. I didn’t need to bother looking up, since any engine sound would shred the silence. But look up I did, again and again, wondering when the plane might finally arrive. And wondering why I would ever want to leave this paradise.
As my ride finally appeared out of the clouds Charles and I couldn’t avoid joking in goofy accents, “de plane! de plane!” And then de plane made a landing on de still water, much as a cormorant comes in for one: gentle… watch it… whoooaaa, lower, lower… splash… whoosh… glide…
Stop.
De plane was even smaller than I had imagined, and as Charles and I said goodbye I could tell that we were both silently making rapid assessments of the odds that this flying coat closet would deliver me safely. I climbed the ladder, squeezed myself into the seat and the ear plugs into my ears. Small plane, very loud engine.
As I’ve gloated about over and over again in these pixels, the view flying across the San Juans is just incredible. Whatever quiet terror I feel about hurtling myself through the sky in something with a door slightly flimsier than that of an airline lavatory and a window made of thin plastic that boasts a ventilation hole I can stick three fingers through, well, that [rational] fear disappears when I look out the window. Small plane, fantastic in-flight movie.
Robert Weinstein said,
April 16, 2008 @ 10:44 pm
Hi Alex!
Long time!
How are you?
I find myself in quite a trance listening to “OF Breath and Touch” It’s beautiful and it caused me to travel internally (enhanced by the the fact that itunes has been repeating it for over an hour..hahaha..) It sounds so beautiful there. The story of the de plane arriving is wonderful and I can imagine the sound of that single engine breaking the silence just as you describe it. The peace both within the music and your tone is evident. Seems like island life is serving you well.
warm wishes,
Robert
Alex Shapiro said,
April 17, 2008 @ 1:37 am
Thanks, Robert! Your words are very much appreciated.
I hope your muses are behaving themselves and showing up on command!
Alex
Glenn Buttkus said,
April 17, 2008 @ 5:14 am
Welcome back, again, yet again, until the next time. Welcome back to your nest, your critters, your spouse, your paradise, and your devoted kelphistos. Your descriptive prose really was astonishingly good. Like most of your narrative reflections, it mixes beauty, wordplay, and humor. We were all there on the dock in the bay, early in the morning last week with you and Charles; there by invitation, watching gently, waving to you as you winged off south southwest to Seattle in your flying egg crate with pontoons.
Hopefully, all went well for you down in the swelter and smog of the LA basin. Did you look up old friends, revisit old haunts, or just do your business fervently and only sightsee in the lobby and restaurants of your hotel?
Your narrative also had wings, dear lady.
So there we stood, the only two humans in sight. We were perched on the very end of a long dock in the early morning hours, staring out to nothing but water and little green isles. My gaze drifted to the sky as I searched for the tiny float plane that was to snag me off the island and bring me to Seattle, from where I’d then fly to Los Angeles. I didn’t need to bother looking up, since any engine sound would shred the absolute silence. But look up I did, again and again, wondering when the plane might finally arrive. And wondering why I would ever want to leave this paradise.
As my ride finally appeared out of the clouds Charles and I couldn’t avoid joking in goofy accents, “de plane! de plane!†And then de plane made a landing on de still water, much as a cormorant comes in for one: gentle… watch it… whoooaaa, lower, lower… splash… whoosh… glide…
Stop.
Which morphed gently, of course, into:
De Plane
So there we stood,
the only two humans
in sight.
We were perched
on the very end
of a long dock
in the early morning hours,
staring out to nothing
but water
and little green isles.
My gaze drifted
to the sky
as I searched for
the tiny float plane
that was to snag me
off the island
and bring me to Seattle,
from where
I’d then fly
to Los Angeles.
I didn’t need to bother
looking up,
since any engine sound
would shred
the absolute silence.
But look up I did,
again and again,
wondering when the plane
might finally arrive—
and wondering why
I would ever want
to leave this
paradise.
As my ride
finally appeared
out of the clouds,
Charles and I
Couldn’t avoid joking
In goofy accents;
“De plane, de plane!â€
And then de plane
made a landing
on the still water,
much as a cormorant
comes in for one;
gentle…
watch it…
whoooaaa,
lower, lower…
splash,
whoosh…
glide…
stop.
Alex Shapiro April 2008
It is fitting that you have returned, and that this is Poetry Month, and you, as well as your poetry, are appreciated.
Glenn
Glenn Buttkus said,
April 17, 2008 @ 5:42 am
I adored DREAMVISTA @ 1:36, although you did not include much back story on it. I so love to sniff around and find out the history of your musical clips. Hopefully, you have an ipod, and you play your own music as you fly. I thought there was only one poem in your narrative this morning. But to my delight, and surprise, another emerged.
Alex’s Archipelago
I climbed the ladder,
squeezed myself
into the seat,
and placed the plugs
into my ears—
small plane,
very loud engine.
But the view
flying
across the San Juans
is just incredible!
Whatever
quiet terror
I feel
about hurtling myself
through the sky
in something
with a door slightly flimsier
than that of
an airline lavatory,
and a window
made of thin plastic,
that boasts
a ventilation hole
I can stick three fingers through—
Well,
that fear
disappears
when I look
out that window;
small plane—
fantastic
in-flight movie.
Alex Shapiro April 2008
Both fine poetic meanderings,complete with humor and heart have found their way to FFTR. Nice to have you back in Sound.
Glenn
Alex Shapiro said,
April 17, 2008 @ 10:56 am
Thanks as always, Glenn– coming home to your comments is a little like coming home to family (a supportive one, not a dysfunctional one! ha!).
The 6 days in L.A. were a whirlwind of non-stop, sleep-deprived, wonderful activities, both business and social. I spoke at the ASCAP Expo, I presented a new piece at a Composers Salon across town as well as moderated the show, and I had a fabulous recording session of a new electroacoustic piece, “Below,” for contrabass flute and electronics, commissioned and performed soulfully by Australian resident Peter Sheridan. In between the raindrops of all the music work, I managed to see some of my very dear friends, and to realize how blessed I am to have so many people I refer to honestly as such that there was regrettably not enough time in the day to see them all. A great trip!
Now I’m back in the saddle with a desk full of work in front of me, yet still managing to get out of the house every day for a woods-and-beach walk (that’s the immediate combo here at my house, which after a year, remains incredibly striking).
Next trip: four weeks from now, back to Manhattan. Hooray! A travel breather! I will try to be a more responsible blog mistress and post a little more regularly. No guarantees on snappy prose or good pix, but a guarantee of… pixels!
Alex
Mike Wills said,
April 20, 2008 @ 5:06 am
That is a lovely header photograph, Alex.
Alex Shapiro said,
April 20, 2008 @ 3:04 pm
Thanks, Mike!