3/3 Orange

Wholly separated. If these were spoken words, would you understand that I didn’t mean holy? I could say “completely separated” and then you would have noticed the difference in meaning. I could also speak in a short and detached manner, uttering “wholly separated” the same way an actor performs a Shakespearean tragedy – by supplying evidence of tempo.

Tempo in speech is the notion of how the words should be spoken. In Tempo lies an endless number of dramatic possibilities. For me, tempo is crucial in comedy: Faster tempo means gracefulness and cheerful mood whereas, slow tempo… well, slow tempo is no comedy at all. :) It’s interesting to remember that in music we measure tempo in beats and we describe it in words. I can’t find anything wrong with describing a person who talks fast as “allegro”. I would sound very abstract though, wouldn’t I? :) Yet, in my mind, which right now feels like an unconnected note to a melody, the word “abstract” better defines the visual ground. Images are static or were static before the Lumiere Brothers, anyway. And “abstract” solidifies in its concept a formality one can only find in a museum. I always wondered when and how museum exhibits are cleaned from dust, so the words “static”, “dust” and “museum” share a common place in my mind. It is funny, how we choose to understand the totality of the characteristics that objects possess. I think I might try to be funny here. In a… non thorough understanding kind of way. :) I could probably say all these things in a fast and lively tempo and you would smile. You see, the trick is first to be prolonged, about something that seems to have a meaning. That’s a tempo “Sostenuto”. And then be “vivo”, meaning you would talk very very fast. And when you finally conclude, you will do it in a slow pace, with short phrases and you will say

nothing – meaningful – at all.

That’s a… “smile-consistent” technique. I say… it is worthy of an abstract smile. :)