matt / within earshot Amidst the varied difficulties and complications of each passing day, the...
Amidst the varied difficulties and complications of each passing day, the expectation is at least survival. So when that code is broken, and someone disappears from the regular cast of our lives, it feels like a deep betrayal. Grief (my phone refuses to write it, replaces it with another word as type this on the subway) combines anger with regret with, of course, sadness. I looked forward to next week’s New Music Gathering particularly because I’d finally have a moment to see and hug Matt Marks. We last met over a year ago, sitting for coffee to discuss a grant I wanted to apply for with him. We discovered upon the first minutes of that meeting that he was too old by a year, while I met the deadline by a mere month. I felt so dumb. But we talked for an hour about music and aesthetic, and laughed, and promised to stay in touch. And then of course, because New York or who knows, we didn’t. Maybe I’d shoot over a little message here or there if I saw his name on a poster or if I saw something funny I thought he’d like. I was peripheral at best, and probably wanted his friendship more than he even fleetingly considered mine. But still, he’s supposed to be here. There. Somewhere within earshot. I’m furious he’s not.
