Fugue #153

A postcard from Marbell:

So welcome to November, Ana. The month you were born. The month that prepares us to straddle the fence between the newborn winds of winter -

(The pianos filigree, then block out chords. It’s dramatic, think Varèse. Winter is coming, marching forward, with autumn in retreat. Each day is shorter, each night is longer and colder. We bundle up, we cuddle up, and wait.)

and the halting breezes of an early faux spring.

(The block chords stop, then single notes. It’s syncopated, think of the beat of a happy child skipping. Winter is in retreat, and spring is coming. We unwrap ourselves, shudder, stand and look. Here we are.)

Think on these things - think on them, and know the questions well. The answers will come. The possibility of discovery is everywhere.

Whatever. She puts on Marquee Moon.