Some Moments

There are some moments that become extraordinary. For me it's a slightly detached feeling: I gaze off into space - or at least, let my eyes lose focus while somehow still looking. I become very still, watching the hands that mold - clay around a pot, clothes into a wrapping, whatever it happens to be. But each movement is like a tingle, like a little shot of electricity deep inside.

I suppose, in another context - and I have no desire to be crass - this might be something close to an extraordinary period of intimate arousal, but these ordinary moments are not based in touch, or relationship, or any external stimulation at all. They seem to come from a nexus of internal circumstances that I can't really list. But they somehow all involve the movement of hands to accomplish something that requires skill.

The two most intense of these moments - that I can remember now - involved women. One was my art teacher in intermediate school, the other was the shop assistant, today.

Odd. I'm sure there's all sorts of explanations for this. It seems to be related to that feeling you get when watching an extraodinarily gifted singer, especially if you know and love them, or listening to a piece of music that is deeply moving. There are aspects of those feelings that don't fit, of course. But I'm content to let extraordinary moments simply be.