Beginnings and Endings
As I stood on a balcony, over looking a park, I was thinking about beginnings and endings. I am a dozen blocks from my high school, where much began, and I am a dozen blocks from my self, where much has been diminished.
If you ever smoked, that first one that didn’t make you choke, that gave you relief, felt so good. But that last one you put out, that gave you relief, made you feel better.
When I was on stage, the first minute and three chords were always terrifying for me. But those same three chords forty minutes later offered me relief.
Falling in love enlivens me and falling out of love is sorrowful. But again, they are similar because if you truly KNOW, they both offer relief.
The best first page of a favourite book is never as good as the best last page of a favourite book. Jumping out of the gates is great, but the tape across your chest at the finish line is greater.
The ideas for a song might evoke excitement and imagination, but finding the last, right word evokes accomplishment and a different sort of imagination.
I don’t remember my first kiss. Or my last kiss. But if there is a next kiss, I think it will stay with me.
Beginnings and endings have little meaning without the other. The first note may inspire, but the last note ultimately satisfies.