The night was late under the rainy Seattle sky. I, among friends, sipping wine and dipping crackers.
In between, this beautiful piece of music played:
I asked the host, what is this? Beautiful, I probably said (was a little drunk).
Metamorphosis….Phillip Glass, scribbling pen on my hand. The night carried on, enjoying this tune long afters. There was something hypnotic, entrancing about this. I could still hear the enduring rhythm yet forgetting the writing. My scribbles faded through short time, more so after some restroom breaks.
After midnight, I walked home through the streets of Seattle. This, being down the Queen Anne hills, through and between the postmodern structures of Seattle Center park, passing under its great Space Needle, towards the illuminate Belltown district. All, under a heavy rainfall. The tune looped on the entire time.
The next morning, I was awakened by the piercing sunlight. That tune carried on. I continued much else, while looking at my hand at times. The writing faded, nearly unreadable.
After errands, I deciphered my scribble. Phillip Glass, easy (famous composer of many films, over the last few decades). The rest, was Metamorphosis. That word is beautiful, with five syllables coming together to represent a special process of change. I thought of Goethe, Kafka, butterflies, myself towards the next life stage.
And then, there was YouTube. Then surprise, Phillip Glass composed five different stages of this Metamorphosis. How appropriate, I thought. Its history of use began with a stage play on Kafka’s famous work of the same title, revised in the movie The Thin Red Line, and brought partially back in the recent Battlestar Galactica TV series revival.
I listened to all parts, wonderful in completion. The first one was the correct one, or not. Was it the last one? They both sound similar. A cycle perhaps?
Enough! I share the remaining four parts of Metamorphosis below.