I saw Ludovico Einaudi play at the Lowry a couple of weeks ago. I was excited because I knew hearing him play would set me free once again… Ignite the fire within me and set my creativity alight. I’ve not been all there lately, the past few years are catching up with me and that spark that fuelled me has disappeared. The reason people fell in love with me and the reason I got up in the morning. Gone. Zilch. Nothing. Nada.
Einaudi was like watching poetry played out in front of me. Each note spun upwards, danced in the air which was thick with awe… each crescendo performed an intricate soliloquy… each diminuendo was a dance. Notes intertwined like lovers. Each bar was an ounce of ecstasy and I spent a little over an hour entranced, enveloped and enthralled by this one man. I felt so consumed with inspiration, as this energy filled me up, grabbing hold of my feet, gluing me to my seat and devouring my body.. I knew that I would be revived. That perhaps this was the moment I had been waiting for. As my soul shrivelled, Einaudi would reawaken it..
We all left with smiles on our faces and hope in our hearts. I pulled up in front of my flat and every detail moved me. Each star was beautiful, representing a galaxy of opportunities… even the rain pouring down couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. Soaking my clothes through but instead of goose-bumps all I could feel was a warm blanket clinging to my shoulders. Einaudi had saved me. I would go inside and play the sheet music I had just bought and mend that black hole inside me.
As I came through the door the boy was there with a thick mound of twenties lying on the bed with him. He was attempting to piece together something vaguely Einaudi on the guitar.
“Ah! That’s perfect to rack up on!” He threw down the guitar and grabbed the book out of my hand. “Don’t ask about the money… but I thought this would encourage the creativity…”
And then, as if nothing had changed, I woke up with a twenty pound note stuck to my face….
I thought Einaudi would encourage me but all it was, was a fleeting feeling that has long gone. Things have changed since I wrote love stories and when you’re heart is not there it’s hard to be inspired to do anything much apart from find something that takes away the frustration.
I still play Einaudi when I’m driving on my own… Part of me still believes that he will be the one saving me..