Friday, May 07, 2004

Driving Home

On the ride home the sky hung above me slate and brooding. I turned the radio to the classical station and found the last movement to that violin concerto (by Mendelssohn, I think) playing. I remember this piece from the final scene of that espionage movie with Natasjia Kinski and Rudolf Nureyev. Nureyev played the last movement in the scene preceding his bloody demise. His character was a terrorist violin player, as odd as that sounds. I really don't understand why authors of espionage-thrillers from the late 70's and early 80's always had to tie in terrorist spies with some sort of high-culture and the art world. Compare this with the terrorists of today. Go figure.

The Mendelssohn piece (if it really is Mendelssohn. If someone could actually correct me, I would be grateful) has always played a strong chord in me. This last movement struck me as a defiant and spirited dialogue, even the ending note smacks of "take that!" or "so there!" To hear this being played on the way home brought me relief from these hopeless doldroms that I experience from over-exposure to work that drains my spirit.

I've been thinking lately that we often overlook the importance of knowing what gives us strength, what drives us. Though I've just admitted to someone recently that we cannot avoid the influences around us when it comes to the power of or strength and will. Often we look towards the external, to others, or greater beings to give us purpose and drive, and we fail to see that we do hold some responsibility for having a will to do things. This has been one of my faults lately. I would allow myself to become convinced that I couldn't get past my job, former relationship, my situation, my credit report, my sketchy past.

I will note, that I don't think I would have ever been able to move past some of the darker moments in my life without the love of my friends, my family, any who were close to me.


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