One of the pleasures of reading is the possibility for synchronicity to occur. Your eyes follow the lines and suddenly, you come across a passage that marries two parts of your understanding into one meaningful and electrifying whole. This happened earlier this week while reading an article by Jeremy Denk in the April 8 issue of The New Yorker.
In “Every Good Boy Does Fine”, Denk writes about his training as a pianist and the wisdom he received from his piano teacher, György Sëbok. I do not teach music – but I do teach yoga – and Sëbok’s words resonated strongly with that part of my life.
I know some of you are asking out of genuine affection, while others are simply grasping when conversation falters, but the next time you feel the words bubbling up, remember this:
Mourning the loss of subtlely
We discussed the possibility of our advancing maturity perhaps influencing the rapidity with which we wrinkle our noses at American-Apparel-ed girls lounging on the slopes of Mont Royal. Or maybe it’s the aversion to 80s fashion that only those who actually lived in the 80s could experience. But no.
It’s that I’m mourning the death of subtlety, and by extension, a loss for the art of seduction.
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