I have forgotten how to big wide world.
Category: article
A painful silence
All on my own in Lockdownland, I can’t recreate the sound that I and my fellow choristers make on Maundy Thursday when we begin Duruflé’s sinuous and reflective setting of the Tantum Ergo; or when we lean together into the achingly plangent suspensions of ‘Jerusalem desolata est’ in Byrd’s Civitas Sancti Tui
Birth Day: trauma and gratitude
Today it is my darlingest daughter’s 7th birthday. I don’t think I could ever love someone more than I love her.
Most years I find myself staying on high alert throughout the night before her birthday in a kind of post-traumatic vigil, a retrospective anticipation of her birth. The body holds trauma in such a way that it can’t tell past from present, and an anniversary or a reminder can whisk one back to the event itself which seems still to be happening, or to a replaying of the narrative.
