I have a rhythm section in my left ear, a percussive tapping that fades in and out.
Right now it’s at rest. Sometimes it feels as though I have a front row seat at a gig with Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich who I enjoy, find exciting. Or maybe a flamenco dancer with a persistent duende like stamping while I’m trying to sleep. At first this unsolicited drumming entertained me but after awhile its prolonged hunger for attention wore me out, dismayed me. Now after a few weeks of it I’ve become mildly detached and accepting as though a neighbor has just dropped by uninvited or unexpectedly for a visit and I’m too polite to say, “please not now, I’m busy” and eventually the visitor gets the idea and leaves.
An unmade futon with red comforter.
oil on gessoed panel 9"x12"
M Cohen L © 2013