—Cello Concerto, for cello, strings & continuo in E minor, RV 409: Movement 3
We lose it— it disappears, evaporates. The edge, the courage, the black madness and abandon of the young. The dazzle of living one hundred percent in the moment. It goes away, leaks out of us like water through cracks. Cracks that come from growing older. They start when you buy whole life insurance policies and mortgages, or hear the results of a not-so-good physical check-up. They start when there’s a need rather than a desire for warm baths. Safety over spontaneity, comfort over commotion. Part of him hated it. Not the growing older, but becoming tame, upstanding, predictable, half-hearted, skeptical about too much.