On Saturday morning, I was up and awake at 5:30. The house was quiet. The previous day, I had been playing the piano, and this very dissonant version of Silent Night came out - thoughts of the Newtown tragedy expressing themselves in music. Usually I play a little and then head off to the office. But this song was unusual - played in a minor rather than a major key - very haunting - and so I ended up recording it, to "do something with it."
And so on Saturday morning, sitting with my coffee and my laptop, I figured out what to do with it. I downloaded photos of each person from a news site. I had taken some Christmas tree photos at my office. And I had the recorded song. So on Saturday morning I mixed it all together, and by 7:00 a.m. it was all done.
My wife came down then - asked, "What are you up to?" I showed her the just about finished piece. She said, "Why did you decide to do that this morning?" I said, "I don't know - I guess it's a way to process grief."
We are far away from Newtown, Connecticut, but this can happen anywhere. From my home in Marple, there is a Newtown next door - literally and figuratively. My wife is an elementary school teacher. They had a faculty meeting on Monday morning to discuss how to deal with the events and the questions that their children might have. I have children going out into the world each day. We all say, "I love you" at our partings, and take for granted that we will see each other again. And then the events of Connecticut ring like an alarm bell in the night.
This event is so horrific. We all feel so helpless. This is something I could do this morning. If only for me, it is a way to express my grief. But I wanted to share it as well.
Here is "Silent Night … Newtown."