Journal

My Arm is Up in the Air Mar 25, 2011

There's a giant intellect hammering away inside the slim form of Charles Smith. Angelic troubadour on display along with the other old world instruments merrily pinging small hammers, filling our entrance into the studio theater with a birdsong of lilting, sweet thrumming. Warming up, his delicate, precise hands nevertheless apparently sometimes hit the wrong keys...as his face will tell you. Grimace, eyes widening, a shrug, slight sigh...begin again. The performance is already afoot as I can see personality at play and in connection with his instrument.

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My Arm is up in the Air Mar 25, 2011

In Tobias Wolff’s story “Bullet in the Brain,” a curmudgeonly book critic is shot at point blank range by a bank robber whose linguistic clichés the critic can’t help mocking. The bullet’s physical speed of 900 feet per second, becomes “a pathetically sluggish, glacial pace compared to the synaptic lighting” inside the critic’s skull. “Once it entered the brain,” Wolff writes, “the bullet came under the mediation of brain time.”

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