The piano

 Dear Adrian,

                I know I should have written this text before, but I just couldn’t. It was not mature inside me yet. All I wanted to say, all the ideas running through my head as I crossed the empty days of my existence, these ideas, I mean, like immortal pieces of soul, they continued.  And by now I have no fear of losing them, once I already  feel it like part of my spirit , if there is a spirit. No one had ever played the piano for me. I had heard concerts, orchestras , but for large audiences, nothing too personal or intimate. That day you said you wanted to show me something, and took me up to the third floor of the library, and sat down at the piano and asked me to sit near you. I guess you don’t dare to know how magical it was for me. I must write, again and again, it seems redundant, but I do have to   draw the scene with words. It seems to me it is not enough just to keep it on my mind for my own records. For me it was much like one of those unexpected miracles that just happens when you are not waiting for  it at all. Did you ever have that feeling that you can foresee a scene even before it starts? That was my feeling when you sat on that chair. At first, a mild pain in the chest. I was simply existing, with no warning, just before you suddenly invited me to hear a melody. For times like this we sometimes have to prepare our hearts. No preparation was needed, however. As you played and I watched your fingers walking across the surface of the white keys , this feeling of pain slightly vanished inside me , and so I allowed myself ,  I allowed  me to be there and live without fear , at least for those moments . My eyes did not burst into tears, just because I didn’t let them . It was something more sublime, an acute feeling like a suffering lined with  hope, a good thing here inside me . You are so old Adrian, that you don’t really imagine. You have more than two thousand years . And the long river of the age of your soul ran through my ears while with my eyes closed I regaled me with a joy that was that moment. Because I don’t understand my existence I watch yours. No, I do not say I love you . Love is something else, different. What I feel in your presence is a state of daring to contemplate  life . Life itself,  that should not be looked  because it was forbidden, but even so we look. While the air in the room was perfumed with notes of Love History I was feeling like forgiving people for their not being as I would like them to be.                    
               I became simple. I, who thought to be so complicated, so full of thoughts and ideas , and things that others do not understand and I do , my cognitive abilities , metaphysical models , philosophical constructs , it all faded away in the simplicity in which I put myself before you in that time. Not that I exalted you, not that I looked to you as a myth , because I myself do not believe in God nor in myths . But what happened was that I passively acknowledged your superiority in some , I can not say which,  aspect of life . All I wanted, all these years , was to feel simple. It was a release to stand before someone more complex than me , that in spite of its complexity , experienced no pain in being . I speak only two languages ​​and my talent, if it can be considered a talent is writing . You do speak , write and read in 4 languages ​​, you are a dancer , plays the piano , has many friends , is well liked and more than that , had never  asked yourself  the question "who am I ?" , not for lack of boldness of your intellect but simply because the fact of living , this fact  itself delete all these pointless  questions . Life itself, your life is your own question and its  own answer . I remember how comfortable it was to allow me that kind of stupidity of soul. And what made me feel beautiful was the fact that even inspired by you  I still liked to be me , to learn in my time , to judge beautiful things that I find beautiful , and mostly , in a way , as I had said , forgive people who are not like me . Forgive people who do not ask questions . What would be a show without the audience ? I understand their role on society,  a role of viewers, and for which the spectacle of the world is enough. I understood the fact that they are well being like this , without the light of some intense spotlight that would probably make them blind. As for us, if we do not  occupy the stage of our lives , we will suffer . That is human nature, and even though I can not prove it , something tells me that these choices were made long before we came here, as humans, to Earth . I said I did not try to be different because of you , that's not  entirely true . Because of you I try to live without having to ask me who I am . I want my own life as an answer. Your life is a vestige of the life of this universe. Some hidden intelligence behinds matter. I created you as a character in a book , and out of my book I found you in my life , as a magician  materializing a rabbit inside the hat , the rest is just history. In my book I had created you for teaching me love, in life you came to me to teach me not to need love , this miserable love, love beggar , as a homeless person on the street  timidly asks for some food . If there is any chemical reaction that occurs between souls, this was ours. You gave me the will to be me without anyone. To at least try this happiness without a reason, not happiness actually , but a  contentment in accepting me the way that I am, and not ask too much about it , just be proudly part of the spectacle of life .

Thanks for that,

Yuri Volpato , Canada , February 21, 2014