The Parade

I met a man in a bar. He told me to come to meet Dr. Rudy.

I met Dr. Rudy again. He remembered me. Simon suggested I write him a letter. “A little step at a time. Make an appointment. Ask him if he can take a little time to hear one piece, and then ask him to make a suggestion about the next step.”

Then, I went to the lake.

I played staring across the water at a woman.

No one stopped.

They did smile. Everyone smiles when they see a man with a toy piano.

A man with a cane, one arm pulled in close, the leg on that side of his body dragged along for the ride. He wiped his nose with the hand that seemed to be freer and somewhat coordinated with his impulses. He stood halfway to the counter, then approached it like a body ready for a doctor.

The elderly woman with the large and thick 8 1/2″ x 11″ textbook ordered fruit and granola. She wore a hound’s tooth overcoat and a black dress with black nylons, black heels, with a black satchel. She picked at her skin while reading. Her head moved from side to side as if she were shivering. It was hot and sunny outside. It was Sunday. With whom did she interview? What was she studying?

I sense the end myself. The body parades all its grief eventually.


25 comments

    • Thank you so much Ivor. I really feel the work is so sparsely connected that perhaps it’s not enough to keep the mind informed of its progress. Like first I say I am going to meet Rudy then I say he remembered me. Or the seemingly unrelated people, but something connects it all, the lack of memory perhaps, like the aged people I am articulating, as well as the childhood return that the elderly return to, hence a “toy piano.” It’s like the woman in business attire, but she is clearly showing signs of a serious, debilitating illness. And under her coat, although it matches well, is the horror of a common dress, something she might have worn all day and then put on. I have suits with the cuffs turned out. I live in a heap of things and I stare at my table top computer not remembering the password. It is the fate at the end of using what you have.

  1. Impressive post for its visual artworks and profound text. Your message brings an air of sadness at the realisation of aging where the individual reconnects with childhood. Aging is connected with loneliness as well as with the musician’s desire to feel listened to. Yet as you played near the lake “no one stopped”. They just saw the “piano toy” and smiled. I did a little searching and found that the seven of diamonds “symbolizes a challenge in balancing love with money. When their love life is running smoothly, the need for earning money becomes the priority – and when there is wealth, the stability of their home life tends to suffer!” (lines taken from: https://www.metasymbology.com/templates/cards/sevenofdiamonds.html) Still wondering what you wanted to express here with this card, so mysterious.

  2. This post is very well done, so enigmatic. Dr.Rudy’s presence in this piece has made me think this person might have been a colleague of your father?

  3. Once again Mario you have found a way for your subjects to expose the inner most parts of their Psyches. There is a fragility in each one as they live In and out of balance, as we all do day to day. It is abstract, though visceral and relatable. I found the images ,as the poetry, a glimpse of the both the character’s unconscious and symbolic archetypes of humanity.

    Such truth and beauty Mario! Thank you! Kathryn

  4. I enjoyed the pictures, what you posted, i liked as well how you describe the man, it helps to imagine, lucky man=happy man🎈

    • I giggled at the concept of lucky man as happy man; I think of Trump. I am so glad you liked the pictures. The man with the cane is in the cafe on the right. The first is of the inside of the church, where in my first meeting of Dr. Rudy, I had asked if I could play in the church and he let me. What a beautiful place for acoustics. I can’t wait to go back with my amp and magnepan speakers.

  5. Pingback: Wednesday Bloggers (part 2) – easydiet.blog

    • Thank you HOH. I was reading recently, and I don’t know where, how description was some kind of failure, and in this story, I simply describe the things, the people, in front of me. They are the environment, a kind of nurture of the evolution of my thoughts and impressions on the matter. If I put you there. If I talk about what I see, I believe we will experience the same effect. Those people, however, were symbols to me of my own fragile state. 10, 20 years away from my own physiological demise, I sympathize with them. They are the doorways to the aging process, my fate, our fate. Today, I am looking for a venue to play music, but tomorrow, I will be deciding if I can get to the venue, probably the doctor’s office, harnessing a new batch of pills. Struggling to dry my back with a towel, having a hard time bending over, hence: “The body parades all its grief eventually.”

      Thank you for being dear and reading. I am flattered to have your ear.


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