The Proms and John Adams

What an evening.

The Proms.

How to describe watching John Adams conduct his own music?

Like relief from an unknown hunger?
Like a cure for a disease I didn't realise I was plagued with?
I suppose I didn't realise my spirit was so malnourished, until John Adams revealed what I was missing.
Thank you John Adams, you have enlightened my existence.

Art is necesary. I knew that. But until tonight I only understood a sliver of the necessary. 1 - 7. He has opened 8 - infinity.
And 8 - infinity is necessary. As necessary as breath.

I have unpicked my brains for this.
I, so lost and small in this unforgiving place;
at times terribly alone with only my sometimes inflexible and intolerant personalities for company.
I have glided along the thoroughfares of spiritual banality,
the cobblestone alleys of indifference,
and arrived awake and beaming,
Here.

O John Adams,
Pure and unassuming man,
you allow me to fathom a life without limits.

And yet, that said, there is no way to justly articulate the experience I had tonight.
Not without limiting it. Not without cheapening it. Not without killing it completely.
Best leave it unsaid. Let it exist in another world, the world of memory, the effemeral...

This art, this music, this super food.
Yes. John Adams is the QUINOA of music.
Worship him.

Wound Dresser:
http://www.earbox.com/W-wounddresser.html