LOST FOR WORDS
Apart from signing a will and several other legal documents, it’s been 4 months since I uncapped this little pen and I wondered if the ink would still flow or if, like me, it would be at a loss for words.
The transplanted elderflower tree that I wrote about in my last essay did not survive. Over the following week I watched in sadness as the leaves curled up and the branches succumbed, bowing slowly toward the earth which failed to sustain it; this tree that had grown from a seed deposited by bird shit into the wall we share with neighbours. I felt a little bit of hope die along with it. And then a little more died with the news of the war in Gaza, the daily announcements of despicable, barbaric acts committed by government ministers, the continuing rise of Trump in the polls with each new indictment and the ongoing disasters wrought by climate change.
I don’t think I consciously chose to put my pen down, but it seems obvious to me now that I needed to live without words for a while. That I had nothing of worth to say. I felt that if I had nothing to offer in the way of hope then I’d rather turn to music and painting.
In October I began studying piano again. Classically trained as a child, I had a good ear and dexterity but failed miserably at music theory. Now, after years of improvising for my own pleasure, I had reached a point where I knew that in order to develop my compositions I needed, damn it, music theory.
It's ironically amusing to me that as a terrible student in childhood and youth, I have, as an adult, chosen to try again. Thus earning an MFA in my late 40’s, learning Italian in my 60’s, and now, in my late 70’s am frying my brain with music theory. I can now verify the unpleasant fact that the grey cells do not take kindly to learning as we age. I did pretty good with the MFA, not so good with Italian and now, when faced with my piano studies often appear imbecilic. But, unlike the elderflower tree, this elder is not ready to give up.
The thing about learning is…you learn. Not always as easily, or as well, or as much as you’d like, but sometimes something really is better than nothing. Learning Italian gave me great pleasure. I didn’t care that my grammar was less than perfect and my accent rather English. The thrill of conversing with others, of being understood, even cracking a joke in a foreign language was more than worth the effort. It also gave me a greater understanding and appreciation of my own language and maybe made me a better writer as a result.
My piano lessons (with an Italian man no less) are a joy and I leave each one walking on air, convinced I have understood everything he’s just taught me. Then I get home and look at his notes and pretty much go blank. It’s humbling and frustrating, yet I do believe that here and there my brain is retaining just enough to keep me going.
What I love about drawing and painting is that, for me, it is devoid of hope and expectation. I am wordlessly motivated by colour and movement. I am unaware of thinking while creating art; I just feel. This colour, this line, this now. I’ve written before of the saying: “Between hope and expectation lies disappointment.” I had hoped the elderflower would survive and was disappointed that it didn’t. I had expected Trump to be a goner….I had hoped antisemitism was on the way out…etc., etc.
So perhaps hope is a bit like believing in potential i.e., a thing we indulge in in order to escape the pain of reality; an indulgence which leads to expectation which so often ends in disappointment. I’m giving up hope and expectation for 2024…should be quite a learning curve.
What I’m not giving up is my belief in love and the practice of it. Like Italian and music theory I don’t expect to earn perfect marks …practice doesn’t always make perfect. But being willing to learn is worth the effort.
What I learned from the death of the elderflower tree is that being uprooted, whether plant or human, can have dire results. But writing about that at the moment is truly beyond me, so I leave you with a drawing and return to the piano.
May health and peace accompany throughout the year.
With love
Maggie
