The diners recited the countries they’d been to and all the different things they’d seen and experienced. Unspoken, yet somehow clear to me from every anecdote was how there was something missing, something each person had overlooked.
Perhaps it was home.
I was reminded of this tangentially by Manuel Hermia’s CD booklet note in a world music album Le murmure de l’Orient (Whispers of the Orient), and how music so often fails to recognize its own home, as well. I’ll leave you with his thought:
“Whereas over centuries, the West has produced the basis for a philosophy developed for reason and managed by it, the East has excelled in philosophical approaches whose wisdom comes from nothing more than the silence of the mind.”
No need to travel for some suitable music, either, thanks to Toronto pianist Eve Egoyan’s compelling (for me, totally captivating) performance of late composer Ann Southam’s Remembering Schubert:
John Terauds