Tinkling piano

Mark pol
2 min readApr 30
Time and music it always goes on ….

A piano tinkle in an apartment just above my head. Walk from my studio along adjacent apartments. My thoughts are with my new painting. Walk in the sun. The first warm day of this spring.

The piano creates a melancholic atmosphere, which suddenly overwhelms me. While the world immerses itself into all kinds of dystopia. Stand still under that apartment and let the music notes slide past my feeling. Sadness, longing and dejection battle for precedence in my head.

The piano tinkles on. The music notes provocatively dance around in my head. People passing by look at me in surprise. Try to smile, but it’s still a dazed grin, sticking to my face.

Reminds me Bill Wither’s song “Lovely Day”. While it is still a beautiful day in which I walk around. Tear me away from my thoughts as the piano tinkles on. Walk on. The music notes haunt me.

When I reach the edge of the nearby park, I sit down on a bench in the sun. My new painting comes back into my head. Theme and form are fairly evident. Only the colors?

Enjoying myself sitting on the bench near the park, I stare at the fantastic blue sky. Every now and then a cloud float slowly by. Spring begins its final period. She smiles at me. How lovely when Spring smiles at you. She stimulates my thoughts and my feelings. Well, that too passes in an endless rhythm. As long as this planet continues to orbit this star, our sun.

Get up, because of the warm spring sun my stiffness is a bit less than usual. Walk back to my studio. The tinkling of the piano has stopped. My little garden looks reasonable now that Spring has poured its magic over it.

Open the studio window and look outside. How beautiful to see that we as humans can sometimes still find a piece of paradise.

With a sigh I sit down in front of my canvas and look at the sketch, yes, now the colors.

The last glimpse of the sun leaves my studio. I close the window. At the end of this week, I will still discuss the colors with the client. Lay down on the couch, have something to eat.

Let the sounds from the outside penetrate me. Can still hear the piano in my head between the outside noises.

My head starts to sink. Don’t want to fall asleep on the couch. Turn the TV on and off again. Grab a book. A few chapters later. It’s late.

Before I close the curtains, I look over a silent dark world.

Fall asleep, somewhere the tinkling piano still sounds. The music notes close my eyes.

Mark pol

I am an artist:painter. I paint and draw. Its a kind of figurative surrealism. www.saatchiart.com/markpol