“A little song on the breeze”
What a gentle little Zephyr
This evening will sigh
Under the pines in the little grove.
And the rest he’ll understand.”
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Act III Duetto: “Sull’aria…che Soave Zeffiretto”

Andy Dufresne: That’s the beauty of music. They can’t get that from you… Haven’t you ever felt that way about music?

Red: I played a mean harmonica as a younger man. Lost interest in it though. Didn’t make much sense in here.

Andy Dufresne: Here’s where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don’t forget.

Red: Forget?

Andy Dufresne: Forget that… there are places in this world that aren’t made out of stone. That there’s something inside… that they can’t get to, that they can’t touch. That’s yours.

Red: What’re you talking about?

Andy Dufresne: Hope. ~The Shawshank Redemption.

The last eight years have been a strange recapitulation for me of my life. Some esoteric individuals call it a preparation for the “return of Saturn in my natal chart.” It is the time of turning 57 to 60. Yet I have experienced it all the same, in the last eight years.

 A couple of years before 2010 is when it started; a need to look back at my youthful rebellion. Now the revival or nostalgia has reached a Peak of the Bell Curve. As a generation feeling, I was not the only one from my generation feeling the same pull. It is all in the song, one note to the next, and it took me back to a time when finding a 45 was not an easy proposition.

Now it is too darn easy.

Authoring a book has lost its charm now because there are so many ‘telling a tale’ or ‘weaving a story ‘of those same rebellious times.

 For me it all comes down to the experience. Looking it square in the face and being happy. I am admiring old friends that still hang to the musical notes of rebellion, where some friends /comrades are as warm as the sun and others as cold as death. Yet it is a good journey still to hope for something new without memories.


Andy Dufresne: You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific? 

Red: No.

Andy Dufresne: They say it has no memory. That’s where I want to live the rest of my life. A warm place with no memory.

~The Shawshank Redemption stephen king

2 thoughts on “Hope

  1. How to separate the memories, the tangible fragments of my former self from the me now? How to rebel when rebellion has become the currency of the realm? I don’t much like cliches but “it’s an inside job” seems to fit here.