Meine damen und herren,
Friday evening I had the pleasure of sitting through St. John's Passion. The instruments were made to the specifications of those at the time of the writing, according to the introduction given by the conductor. Then, they began playing, and I started remembering things from pasts that may even have been my own, but you will likely recognize them as not and as inapplicable: 'Oh bliss! Bliss and heaven! Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh. It was like a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now,' or, really, the suffusive orange glow of a ticking clock, each clicking twitch an incantation of all prior ticks and all ticks to come, worked into the world by gears steadily, inaudibly grinding.
ruht wohl und bringt auch mich zur Ruh,
walter