Yes, yes. I realize that I left off on doing The Work on some things in the previous “to be continued.” I’ll do that presently, but first this . . .
Have I written before on how closely music is related to sex? probably. What have I not related to sex ?
Still, having come from Gabriel’s warm embrace into the orgiastic energy of this Irish jam, well, the similarity strikes me again.
Start with the bouzouki player. I told him he had “Dangerous Fingers.” (She trails off, watching them.)
Ah. Excuse me – I got a bit distracted there. That, and I’m writing this thing in longhand at a table in the pub. Yes, again. If there is no singing, I tend to read or write while I’m here. I’ll type it up later.
My question is this:
Why can’t people as easily gather for a group sex jam as they do for music?
We all know I’m not really polyamorous, but I’ve had a few new interests pop up lately, and it’s got my brain on sex again. None of them are lifetime love candidates, and they are all but one involved with someone else (whose consent they have for such dalliances, though I haven’t gone there with *any* of them, yet.)
Let’s see. There are about 4 fiddlers, a couple of pennywhistles, at least one concertina I can see, 2 flutes, a boudran (did I spell that right?), a harp, and of course, a bouzouki.
One musician starts a tune, those who know it join in – usually most of them. I think they’ve been playing together here for a long time. So, like lovers, they know the moves. They know what they like. The can improvise around each other. Now, notice, this isn’t like you just threw a few people who could play instruments all together and they just played. There’s a core group that seems to be here every week. Some come and go ( *ahem* ) and others stay the whole night. Some watch, catch the tune and then play, learning as they go. About three of them seem to either know every tune or be *such* good musicians that they play nearly every tune. I’m betting on the latter.
Isn’t sex like that?
Please don’t misunderstand – I’m not into group sex. Never have been. I’ve been in bed with a couple of other people a few times, and usually, I prefer one-on-one, like 99% of the time. I’m just noticing that if there were a community, an openness, connection and flow between a core group and some other regulars – well, group sex could be a *lot* better and a lot more satisfying – just like this music.
Of course, just as I’m writing this, a cute blond starts playing her pennywhistle for all she’s worth. She’s blowing and fingering the slender silver instrument quite masterfully. Her hair is slippingout of its tie and falling erotically over her face. Yes, she looks just like she sounds like she does – like her lips are wrapped around someone she really loves. It’s a thing of beauty.
The drummer beating time seems to fit – what does it matter what her lips are wrapped around? I think one of the musicians saw me laughing and figured out why. I am really quite tickled at her timing.
This is just a thought. I know others have thought it. “Stranger in a Strange Land” has a few similar ideas and with all the connection and well, grokking, that would make such an experience desirable.
I’d be interested in other writings that have similar passages or themes. For that matter, if you know of any groups that have practiced either the music or the sex, without all the drama that usually accompanies such scenes, that would be interesting to know.
The old hippie slogan comes back to me: “Make love, not war.”
And my personal favorite, which I’d like in white script on a pink t-shirt: “Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity.”
It’s hard not to write something really trite, like “we could make beautiful music together.” And we are. That’s how the world looks to me when I drop my stories.
Love, Ann
