free dan man

IN SEARCH OF NEW SENSATIONS

Daniel A. Freedman, personal web site

Light and Music

All my life relies on them. Almost all... They mean food, oxygen, water to me. A kind of state. No, perhaps an additional instinct. Don’t grin! Compared with other, “normal” people, I have one instinct more. This is thanks to my ability of hearing and seeing music simultaneously. When I see light, a play of light rays, I hear music. Right here, within me. In front of me. Around me.

Music starts somewhere in the depth of my inside and through the breast fills the whole of my being bit by bit. It broadens my chest to such an extent that my body feels on the point of bursting when music passes beyond its limits. There is so much of it. And it does go outward! Otherwise, it would have been failing in being heard and felt by those in daily touch with me. Light and Music. The way to knowledge... My philosophy. As well as love. The soul sings. I turn the lever - Light! Now Music has switched. All around is on fire. The fire of Prometheus! He has lit up everything. As well as warmed. Together with Music. And with just a bit of me.

Me... The whole world... The mirror... The drop... Its state cannot be determined. Now liquid now gaseous now ethereal... Water evaporates. Gas dwindles. Ether sinks. Only the drop is left... Now it is a Screen of colour and sound vibrations ... the size of the eternity of all the Universes ... The performance goes on ... the very life conducts it... This is life... Only the key has changed... The colours of fear have vanished... The dirty yellow bile has poured out, all of it, under the pressure of the mighty bass on the frequency of twenty Hertz which stabbed me in the left subcostal sphere.

The violet key has replaced dark blue and diluted the light yellow rest. The consciousness has calmed down ... and spread in order to get rid of the substance forever, quieten... flare up... Now it is I who is inside the drop... No! It is the drop that is in me... Everything depends on whether it is day or night... At night colours get brighter, they make up the whole colour symphonies in an utter silence... But during the daytime the rainbows of symphonies roar, and the scents grow stronger... Everything dissolves ... in the colour range of incense... The incense grows, making columns. Those in turn grow together into walls sheltering you from the world, ...manifesting themselves like a raging ocean... It is impossible to define the borders between Yin and Yang...

Only a moment ago there was a black square here. Now it is a white dot that we see instead... All this can be seen only if the sight is unfocused... In reality, it is nothing but emptiness taking its roots in the might of the chorus of humanity, breaking off under the weight of the wine-coloured velvet wings of a butterfly. The butterfly has lost its balance because of the reflection of a sunbeam, and has had to land on the tip of a conductor’s baton to melt its wings again, doing this time after time for the last million years, in the magic of the hardly-heard murmur of the Chiefs of the Human race, coming through the groaning of the raging conflagration... All this started a very long time ago, evidently from that mountain peak that towers above the Earth and is closest to the sky.

Pieces of clouds float under the peak pouring out a little rain once in a while, brought to life by the voice of a boy, an obstinate little boy. In self-oblivion he plays here, on the summit, day and night. He listens to the buzzing of bees and selects various flowers in accordance with their colours. In a confident manner, unusual for a child, he twines a very long wreath or, maybe, a belt. From here, a long way off, it is difficult to see it. The boy keenly reacts to the slightest changes of nature, to the colour and shape of the clouds, to the thickness of the air, to the chorus of the planets... Now his mother comes down to him wishing to take him away into the house. But his mind is busy doing something else, and he starts to cry.

He is the only one who knows that it is here that his place is, and how much strength and concentration it takes to keep harmony between Man and Nature by means of a special kind of Art. It is not as if he had been sent here for no reason. There is little time left for him to wait... From here a new way will start, his way, a new way of a new mankind... Where everyone and everything will be in harmony, in unity with each other. Where no one will war for pre-eminence, individual possession, and where all diseases will be treated with miraculous aromas, music and colours...