I just finished one of the Alarcón pieces and I feel spent. Y’know, like after sex. I’m sweaty, stinky, and need a nap. When I work, my heart rate elevates. I’m certain my eyes are fully dilated. I breath faster. I see nothing but what is before me. I get hot rushes all over my body. No, I don’t get an erection or have an orgasm, but when I play back the music when the piece is finished, I’m in ecstacy. I guess it’s related to the birthing process. It’s hot, hurts, is erotic, infuriating, and you feel really satisfied when it’s over.
Cigarette anyone?
[“Duel after a Masked Ball” by Gérome, Jean-Léon (1824-1904); oil on canvas]
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