|The Stuff of Musical Dreams...
||[Oct. 15th, 2017|06:55 pm]
God, I really don't want to travel Tomorrow. But the bloody reservation is Made. Gah...
I dreamed about Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan last night; and it wasn't the first time Either, right after I'd been listening to clips of him in a tribute article on my laptop. In fact, it feels as if I spent all night in an Alternate reality, where he was Alive, and performing all over Seattle for a mostly Desi crowd--even outside, on University Way, in a sort of Glorified busking set. I was Elated, and Confused at the same time; I couldn't figure out if I was in an Astral plane with him and his ancestors, relatives, friends and whomever; or if he had died and come back to life (as I keep wanting to happen in real life); or if he had never died in the First place. Plus, I kept moving from place to place with him and this whole crowd of fans, cousins, et. al.; and it seemed as if we ended up in a house where people were partying all night, and I fell asleep in a chair around a table with a bunch of other folks. Eventually, it seemed as if Nusrat himself was telling me it was time to wake up and get on with Waking hours, while puzzling over how to deal with the next time I'm missing him something awful (this past Friday would have been his 69th birthday; and I'd been thinking of how I gave him early-birthday presents for his 47th, way back in '95, when Riz and I organized that crazy show at the Moore Theater).
[TO BE CONTINUED...]