A Mad Pianist?

A mad pianist? I am sure you are thinking that mad equals angry, right? Wrong. I am glad to finally prove you wrong. The “mad” that you will want to equate is that of, perhaps, the Mad Hatter. Kind of.

Truthfully, the term “mad pianist” came upon reflection of a section of one of my favorite poems by Theodore Roethke. There is a stanza that has always stayed with me and I could probably recite from memory (had you asked). Is that where all the problems and “madness began? High School AP English? The root of my problems? Eh. Probably not. We would have to go much deeper and engage in some real therapy for that one.

So, these are my journeys, my trying to make sense of the unsensable. This mad pianist just trying to find her way to, well, anywhere.

What’s madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day’s on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall,
That place among the rocks — is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have…
–Theodore Roethke– “In a Dark Time” —

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