Dear Linguist,
Here is another dream I require your assistance in interpreting.
Everything is falling apart. From the nosebleed seats to the stage itself, the whole concert room is lined with vines, moss and mould that spreads all along the floor like a carpet. Through one of the many holes in the roof comes a spotlight that rests on our character, presumably a musician of sorts. The young man’s whole appearance contrasts immensely with the hall that surrounds him. He wears his spotless, jet-black suit confidently and each strand of his hair is put perfectly in its place atop his head.
He is the only one in this place. But it doesn’t feel very lonely, in fact, the same overgrowth that cripples the building seems to compensate for its decay with company. If it wasn’t for all the destructive flora, this whole emptiness would have felt much more tragic and desolate, and so in a way, the degradation of this hall has made it a much more comforting setting for our character. Regardless, the perceived comfort of the environment does not change the fact that there will be no one to appreciate, applaud or even disapprove of his work.
This is the scene we find our character in. Beginning the concert, he walks swiftly across the stage, away from his first spotlight, and into a larger one that sits perfectly accentuating his seat and the old grand piano. Despite all the theatrics, you can easily tell that this practised routine burdens him greatly. It’s partly his posture, and partly his expression. In moments throughout the opening pre-performance, you can see his back arch briefly as he takes his seat, and you can see his face lose its neutrality as he turns towards the empty audience. He places his hands on the piano and finally,
he begins.
With clinical precision, he places his fingers onto the first few keys.
And then the next few.
And then the next.
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One chord after another the performance progresses and with each passing press of the keys the melody starts to feel even more ethereal.
The music is nothing short of breathtaking, it’s the type of music you would listen to on a stormy day, to contrast the cold chaos of thunder and rain. It’s warm, it’s peaceful, it’s nostalgic, but not melancholic.
Every note is imbued with all the emotions of the musician, and as tempos and dynamics change, you can feel how flawless yet deliberate each execution is.
He keeps going and going playing the same melodies but adding different harmonies. He starts adding small alterations, a key change, an extra note a half-tone up, and as he does so you can feel his emotions more intensely. The tempo speeds up and you can start to feel its imperfections, you can almost physically hear his desperation and his frustration, but you can’t see it in his face because it never changes while he plays; all you can see is his unwavering focus and his determination to get this performance right.
This piece is coming to a close and it’s made obvious by the tempo and the pitch and the fiery echos that reverberate around the hall and they keep rising and rising and rising and rising-
and stop.
Silence. A ringing in your ears.
Then, softly, resolution.
This is the condition of the character at present.
There are only two other things you should know about the situation. These were things I found to be quite unusual as I viewed the dream. Perhaps these will help with your interpretation.
One. As the musician performed his piece, the interior of the hall began to degrade at an accelerating pace. You could see the vines grow and take hold of the chairs like a boa constrictor, and the mould spores grew even more prominent, blending in the formerly vibrant red and rich brown environment with the vines and other plants. I feel that in some way, the musician and his hall are connected in some way.
Two. Just as my consciousness began to fade out from the dream I heard applause, but it was quiet and I could only make out a single pair of hands contributing to that applause. It would be strange for the musician to be applauding himself but there was truly no one else in the hall, and nothing I believe could have made that sound. So the source of that applause is something I cannot really be sure of.
Now tell me Linguist, what does this mean? Why was the musician performing?