July 7, 2001

July 07, 2001 12:29 AM

Control the breath . It’s all about the power of the lungs to fuel the voice. .. … I’ve come in from a night walk/ run… 3 & 1/2 miles around the neighborhood park. Now, in this clear cool air, surrounded by the lulling, sexy, and distinctly Southern rhythms of the cicadas, a light breeze comes in off the porch drying the sweat and seducing me to write to you. An occasional firecracker pops in the distance – this 2 nights after the Fourth Of July. ….Rapid pops are closer now, and most likely lit by the hands of the whispering boys huddled conspiringly on the curb whom I passed moments ago.

On the Fourth, V. and I took the elevator to the top of an open- air multideck lot to watch the huge fireworks display. This was an amazing vantage point for the ‘sonic boom’ effect ….the satisfying thunder after the rippling screams shot up into the sky. I couldn’t help thinking about the distinctly urban experience of watching these ‘rockets ‘ and ‘bombs ‘ from this high-rise car parking lot as the resulting smoke above us enveloped a massive condo building where occupants gathered on their balconies to gawk at the spectacle – and cough .

Tonight during the run, I heard a piano. The phrases, melodic interludes and silence resonating ….. And I realize that only when I get away from clutter bombardment, can I hear this music being born inside me. A piano in an otherwise empty room afloat in the night air.