Why there is a record I don't listen to in my room—What a single LP taught me.—
In the afternoon, the setting sun begins to illuminate the bookshelf.
With a cup of coffee in one hand, I gaze blankly at that bookshelf.
It has become my favorite time of late.
Between the books, a single record is displayed.
It is a live recording of the Chopin Competition, featuring a young Bunin on the cover.
In fact, I bought this LP at an auction a few years ago, but I wasn't looking for a record to begin with.
It was a complete misunderstanding.
I had been convinced it was a CD.
The moment I opened the box that arrived, I was a little surprised at how strong my assumption had been.
After all, in the Reiwa era, I had bought an LP without having any way to play it.
However, this mistake brought about an unexpected result.
When I stood it up on the bookshelf for the time being, it felt strangely right.
A young Bunin.
The name Chopin.
The large jacket unique to an LP.
It had a presence that a CD lacks.
Since then, this record has become a piece of decor in my room.
Recently, I have been reading 'In Search of Lost Time'.
In it, my eyes caught one particular sentence.
“The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect, in some material object.”
The past is hidden in a place beyond the reach of intellect.
And it resides within a single object.
It is a passage with that kind of meaning.
When I read this sentence, strangely enough, this LP was the first thing that came to mind.
To borrow Proust's words, this record is not merely a music medium.
Within it, time from the past is trapped.
Chopin's music.
Bunin in his youth.
The atmosphere of the analog era.
And me, now, looking at its jacket.
While gazing at the bookshelf for a while, I tried to superimpose myself onto this LP.
The record no longer plays music.
However, its existence has not vanished.
It has changed its role and still remains a part of the scenery of this room.
In that, I felt like I saw a little bit of my own future.
Of course, it might be a bit reckless to think of humans and records in the same way.
Even so, as we age, it is inevitable that our roles will change.
Work.
Job titles.
Life.
Everything about it changes little by little.
Perhaps that is why.
This one LP feels strangely intriguing.
There is certainly a sense of melancholy there.
The image of Bunin in his youth is one such example.
However, strangely enough, there is also hope.
Just as a record that no longer plays music has found a new role, perhaps people also have new places where they belong.
Today, I am drinking coffee in front of the bookshelf again.
And sometimes, I make eye contact with Bunin.
Of course, it is the Bunin on the LP jacket.
Takeaway for today
Ending a role is not the same as losing value.
The second half of life might be a time to find new roles and places to belong.
#Record
#Chopin
#Bunin
#Proust
#Reading
#Music
#60s
#SeniorLife
#LifeReignition
[Another challenge I started in my 60s]
As part of reigniting my life, I am also working on writing novels.
I am currently publishing fairy tales on TALES.
If you are interested, please take a look.
▼ TALES Work Page
(Link)