DD's treasure
What is the difference between music and the sound of rain? There is no diference. Creating works of art is essentially an unconscious act, their effect can neither be predicted nor substantiated rationally. Rocks come into being, they exist for themselves not aiming at any effect. The inexpressible can show itself within both - rocks and art. The composer produces music, he does not say anything with music, he does not try to represent the inexpressible; for any effort to express the inexpressible is bound to fail like the safe breakers' attempts to rob Mr. DD. The inexpressible is within the sound of rain even though the rain was not intending to show it and maybe it is within music that does not intend to express it. Composing differs from the process of developing a formula for LSD. Important in music is not the discribeable effect. Music does not lead the listener away from music itself, but into music. Music is music, rocks are rocks, plains are plains, molluscs are molluscs. Composing means pointing to the sound within myself. "Donald Duck: Nevertheless, I think one has to admire the safe breakers. Trick: Really?Why? Donald Duck: Look, they had to learn to play in all those different styles of music in order to make their predatory excursions! Tick: HAHAHA! So, you mean you still didn't get it! Track: Everything was just a recording! Trick: It was just an act! The music was on tape! Donald Duck: With the exception of that horrible "Safe Breakers Song"! Track: Exactly! That was their only live performance. The Safe Breakers: Harhar! Donald is really an egghead!"(Walt Disney).
.
the hibernation of molluscs
Back from the mountains Oek was walking on the large boulevard Nr.42 crossing the city from North to South on a very windy day. Clouds were scattered all over the sky, forming intertwining fields of deep blue and rugged greyish or reddish white. In the very South these clouds were accumulating and forming a huge dark cluster on the horizon. In the late afternoon, traffic-lights, illuminated shop-advertisements and headlights of passing vehicles were forming a strange counterpoint to the fainting light blue of the evening sky. In the almost constant presence of a great variety of sounds, the sounds of the wind, the noises of cars, trucks, motorcycles, the peeping of the traffic signals, occasionally the wind would suddenly stop for some seconds and the phases of the trafficlights would keep off vehicles from both directions so that short periods of silence would break in as if corresponding to the spots of clear blue on the sky. Almost no one was walking on the large pavement, everyone used vehicles to pass by these long rows of small and dirty concrete buildings. Oek thought that this is what moonlight must be made of: moonlight is dirty concrete and stinking exhausted gases and dark clustered clouds. Someone was calling from a green telephonebox, shop-clerks wearing dark-red silk jackets and baseball-caps were removing dislayed heavy motorcycles from the pavement in front of a motorcycleshop. Oek had already forgotten how much rent he had to pay for his flat.