Kakao Brunchbook 6th Publishing Project Special Award Winner
Tonight again, from somewhere, a thin musical note unravels like thread. It is the breath of a bandoneon. Unhurried. Like a streetlamp standing alone passing through a dark alley. Wine flows into the Glencairn glass -- deep ruby radiance, bewitching color. Swirling the glass gently. A vibrant aroma flies into the nostrils. Thirst rushes in. Lifting the glass to the lips. Slowly tilting. Wine flows over the tongue. Sweetness and smoothness. Closing eyes, sketching an image. We live within forgetting. We try to remember but live forgetting most things -- whether good things or bad. No matter how hard we try not to forget, there is no match against passing time. So we use means such as photos and writing to leave records. The tango-wine parallel: tango music lives in the tension between presence and absence -- the bandoneon melody hangs in the air and then disappears, just as the specific flavor of a wine moment cannot be exactly reproduced; the wine glass emptied tonight will never be exactly filled again with the same wine from the same bottle opened at the same moment of your life; both tango and wine teach presence -- that the experience is happening now and then it is gone; memory is an imperfect record, like trying to hum a tango melody heard once; the most we can do is be fully present in the moment and accept that the moment will become memory, then forgetting.
