A Place In The World
Information:
- Source: Open Letters Notebook
- Key: Bb Major / G Minor
- Measures: 36
- Parts: Cello and Piano
- Duration: 3:15 Min
- Pages: 3 Pages
A LETTER #
Dear Vincent,
I hope you don’t mind me writing to you. I don’t have a particularly good reason for doing so, other than the fact that I felt like sending you a letter. I understand you were rather fond of writing them yourself, so I thought you might appreciate receiving one for a change.
First, I should tell you that I like your paintings. A lot. I know very little about painting, and I wouldn’t dare pretend to understand the technical aspects of your work. I’m not an art critic, nor do I intend to become one. All I know is that when I look at your paintings, I feel like a child playing with a new box of crayons. There is something wonderfully liberating about the way you use colour and put things together. It makes me want to pick up a paintbrush and start painting myself, despite having absolutely no idea what I’m doing. I find that beautiful, Vincent. I really do.
I WANT TO TELL YOU #
But enough about painting. I have a few things on my mind, and since I’ve already started writing, I might as well tell you.
You see, once I turned fifty, someone took control of the remote of my life and, by pure accident, pressed the fast-forward button. The years became shorter and now feel like months, the months like weeks, and almost without noticing, the days pass as if they were hours.
It’s as if the planet, contrary to the laws of astronomy, has suddenly developed a sense of urgency. It spins on its own axis at a recklessly unpredictable speed while revolving around the sun so fast that it’s about to lose control and disappear into the far reaches of the solar system. I don’t remember signing up for this accelerated version of life, but here I am.
Perhaps this is why I find myself thinking more about how much time I have left and what I want to do with it. I would like my life to stretch as far as possible without sacrificing its quality or warmth. What’s the point of living longer if life itself is no longer worth enjoying?
VAGUE DREAM #
I had an unpleasant reminder of just how fragile life can be when I was young. Towards the end of my adolescence, at an age when most of us are convinced of our own immortality, my life was threatened by a serious liver infection. For a while, there was a real possibility that I might not survive. Fortunately, medicine had advanced enough by the 1980s to diagnose and treat something so serious.
I don’t remember much about the illness or the recovery that followed. It all seems like a vague dream in which shapes and colours are difficult to distinguish. My body was somewhere between being here and not being here. Half alive in death, or half dead in life. The important thing is that I recovered completely, and without having to do much myself. My mother took care of practically everything, which was rather convenient, considering I wasn’t in a position to negotiate the terms of my recovery.
MALICIOUS RIDDLE #
As the years go by, thoughts about death become harder to ignore. It’s that mysterious ending we humans know is coming but know very little about. A rather malicious riddle, if you ask me, and one that has kept us occupied for as long as we’ve been around.
Science, on the other hand, can explain in considerable detail what happens to a body after death. There are no strange myths or supernatural mysteries involved in the fact that its chemical energy and matter return to the natural cycles from which they came. What we still struggle to understand is life itself: how it begins, why it happens, and what exactly makes the difference between being alive and no longer being here.
LARGHETTO #
I should tell you that I’ve composed a piece to accompany this entry. It’s a Larghetto in B-flat Major, rather gentle for the most part, with a catchy tune that I hope stays with you after you’ve listened to it. It has something of a nighttime feel to it, the sort of music one might enjoy while looking up at a starry sky. A little romantic, I know, but I’ll take my chances.
I’ve called it A Place In The World. I wonder what you would think of it, Vincent. You worked with colours, I work with notes, and perhaps both of us are trying to put into our work something that isn’t always so easy to express in words.
WRITE BACK #
I suppose that’s enough about death for one letter. I didn’t intend to turn this into such a serious conversation when I started writing to you. I simply wanted to say hello, tell you that I like your paintings, and share a few thoughts with someone whose work makes me feel like a child again.
Will you write back? Given your enthusiasm for correspondence, I would have been rather curious to read what you might have written back. By and by, perhaps we will meet.
Sheet Music Archive
Published Score.
The complete work is available for consultation and download.