Twilight Music on the Rubab

https://youtu.be/mF2PprD8T7k video

It's not as if I can't or won't continue, it's just at the age
of eighty, I feel there's an approaching horizon; by 90 I most
likely won't be here or at least capable of playing music the
way I want to play it. It's like that, a feeling that affects
me in the mornings. We're more or less isolated here as well,
and as we know, lack of community is extremely stressful. The
rubab as I mentioned, is difficult for me; it's designed for
plectrum playing, and I make mistakes in a number of ways. The
playing here is then twilight playing, a heavy and utter
silence ahead of me. I thought about putting a more finished
piece up (I hadn't touched the rubab for a while and felt
somewhat clumsy on it), but then I thought, better that the
processes of thought and ambiance reveal themselves, than that
a finished piece appears. It's a long path down that could go
on for quite a while or end in a month, one never knows. So
this is the result. I would say this, don't count anyone out,
ever, until the unaccountable occurs, which it does to all of
us. I write this after reading an article about asking ChatAI
to write late show monologs, and of course the subject was old
age. This sort of thing infuriates me - that old age is more
and more the butt of jokes, the last group perhaps that can't
really object because they're too old and who cares. Soon
late night will be the only thing that does, honoring us with
really funny jokes about falling and forgetting at our expense.
Another form of twilight. I think I'll fall down stairs.

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