11/14/2016
Dear Dad,
Thank you for your last two posts. I can't tell you how full it made me feel to have you and mom here for my concert, and to see in person and then to read in your writing how moved you were by the music. That's why I do it, I think, to create some kind of larger understanding that can envelop you in the experience of something singular, something that had never been said in that particular way. This is not to say I think I was doing something great or groundbreaking; I think any time we put pen to paper or endeavor to make music we are doing that. Sometimes it's harder to see than others, but making things seems to me to present the possibility for a new perspective, for opening a unique window, every time. I am glad you saw it that way.
You single out "Losses But Just"; I have been thinking of that piece a lot lately, the mantra that generated it and the idea of holding two worlds of feeling at once: sorry for your losses but just look at that sky. It has become a perfect representation of life before Nov 8. I feel sympathy for you and your difficulties, it says, but at the same time I can walk through the Arb in the morning sun and feel a sense of awe. You talked about privilege in your letter, too, and this for me is its height. I am not living under duress, so my sorrow can remain an abstraction; it dissolves when the skyline is particularly striking. There are many who could not sing this song without irony. Or if they did, and could, it would be a remarkable act of defiance and courage. For me, though, it's self-incriminating. It was at the time but without the teeth that the election have given it. I am dismantling the mantra now. Now I am just sorry for your losses.
There's so much more to say about all of this. I have been writing a lot, and have dusted off an old idea, too, one that initially ripped us apart but that I think eventually made this project gather steam. I feel a focus that I've not felt in a long time, and a desire to offer something up.
This is a preamble to a proper response, I suppose. But feel free to beat me to it. Now, more than ever, I feel like I need your voice. It is not an abstraction anymore. I really need us to understand each other, and I am committed to working on it until we hit something we can't move, or until we blast through.
Love,
Andrea