Still Lifes with Flood
Try to be like Mozart. Don’t be afraid of what goes beyond human dimensions. Let music, which is played for you, flood all around you, take away the piano, the chairs, and the roses of fleeting glory. As far as the eye can see, water everywhere. You’re sitting in a solitary tree, rid of the pride of human civilisation. Water robbed us of everything. Yet it declared us to be one, even if tiny, part of nature, which is not interested in riches, power and glory...
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Try to be like Mozart. Don’t be afraid of what goes beyond human
dimensions. Let music, which is played for you, flood all around you,
take away the piano, the chairs, and the roses of fleeting glory. As far
as the eye can see, water everywhere. You’re sitting in a solitary
tree, rid of the pride of human civilisation. Water robbed us of
everything. Yet it declared us to be one, even if tiny, part of nature,
which is not interested in riches, power and glory.
When the floods are over, you’ll see other people on other trees. It is just a matter of time to find your way to them, for your message carried by a paper boat to find its addressee. But don’t forget what you’ve come to understand in the state of ideal solitude. It’s normal for birth and death to alternate, immortality is selfish and boring. It is thanks to our mortality that our life is a miracle. Try what Mozart did – to compose a commemorative Requiem for your potential ruin. It will mean that you are still alive.
