The Cricket's Last Concerto

  There was once a cricket

who listened and marvelled

at the music it heard from afar;

it jumped forth from the thicket,

and followed the sound,

like a wise-man and the star.

 

It came to a garage,

and making itself small, it snuck inside.

Was it a dream? Heavens, no! And lo!

there was a boy playing the piano. 

It observed and listened unseen,

serenaded by the music that played;

and the cricket, thus so inspired by song,

jumped forth from hiding and sang along.

 

They harmonized, he played,

the cricket sang; like an opera, 

doomed to end with a bang.

And when the final-notes, they faded, thus departed,

the cricket, ended it's part.

And when the boy saw it at his feet, chirping it's last bit,

he frowned, and stepped on it.

Based off true events.

Märchensammler

 'Märchensammler' or 'Fairy-tale Collector' is the album I've been working on since the summer of 2021. As the writing process took its toll on me, I found it increasingly difficult to imagine what the cover would look like, or what I would even call the album altogether; but in a single moment, I imagined, I like to think, exactly this.

The imperfection is part of every art; as you grow in skill, you learn to execute what lies before your mind's eye with increasing accuracy: but every raw idea becomes muddled with details and developments as it grows to it's completion. I think that this is very evident in my own compositions; I start with an inspiration, and it develops into something whole and complete. Many of the pieces are written in F Minor, which I felt said the whimsical words 'once upon a time' in a dark and tragic fashion, befitting the gloom and brooding themes of the whole collection.

As I read through my favourite tales, I stopped at the brief description of Geppetto's time in the Dogfish.

'And how long have you been shut up here?' asked Pinocchio.

'Since that day-- it must be nearly two years ago; two years, my dear Pinocchio, that have seemed like two centuries!'  (Pinocchio, Chapter 35, pg.189).

It spoke of a much larger story, one of great despair, as he spent those many months alone, facing what seemed his inevitable death. With these thoughts I turned to my piano.

 

 If you would be so interested, you can listen to these fairy-tales being told through music on any major streaming platform.

What Happened During My Walk

 One day I felt so crammed, the words so forced between my ears,
It felt like my head was in a whir; my vision felt a-blur, a-stir with thoughts that did not come out onto the page, how-ever much I tried, the words stayed inside my head and there they laid, biding in my mind.
I peeked out the window. It was a nice spring day. It was without wind or rain: so I went outside and walked along the lane, taking any further attempts of writing to be in vain.
I looked for the words in the clouds. But they gave me none. The sky was filled with those clouds, and with a slight warm breeze. But they gave me no words that day, so I continued on my way, taking in nature’s display.
I looked across the meadow, though which my path had led, and saw this little red cottage out by the farmstead.
‘My! What a cute little house.’ I thought, and continued walking, knowing little what would happen next.
The words had left my mind. I enjoyed instead the feeling of being outside.
Until I turned and saw the house. The winding path lined and signed with grass and flower had left the farm and barn far behind, neither of which I could find.
What? Did it have an identical neighbour? I mused, and I laughed, and I continued on.
My steps they traced up a hill; and going down the other side, I looked back again, I gave a cry, my eyes grew wide, for there the house did now bide, on that very hill-side.
My steps grew faster. My heart began to fail. My face grew pale, my nerves frail. And I wondered what I had done to gain such a giant tail.
When I had the courage I looked back again, and saw it still nearby, and then I cried and ran, but the house followed faster!
faster! faster than any house could or possibly can! And the whole time it thought to itself, ‘My! What a cute little man.’