The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Before and After #101: Glenn Gould




Chris Rywalt said...

I'm not sure anything existed for Gould outside his own head, and these pictures show that, don't they?

Vanwall said...

A cogent observation! Agreed.

kass said...

"... outside his own head" and own hands, I'd add. Clearly they were connected. That connection was sacred, and if that's what it took, staying in that small, albeit enormous, world... all i can say is Thank You Glenn.

I had the good fortune to hear/see him play live when I was in high school. He arrived all mufflered, true to legend and his fingers left depressions on my brain that I can still follow, like breadcrumbs, to find my way back to that precise and sublime magic.