Bennett Sewell Art

Hattie Mae: 

 

Ammonius can’t talk now, he’s tuned in.  He’s suffitted with joy, he’s limp, all his pores are open and filled with sweetness sort of like a golden brown waffle soaked in melted butter and maple syrup.  See that head set, one of his littermates, Professor Seeker, built that for him to catch the music of the universe, all of it from the beginning of time and maybe before, be it from a piano, a cricket, or a dove.  All of it is still running around and around out there, just like our memories are for us.  His brain is almost gone out through his fingers; the little that is left is playing that imaginary keyboard.  I once asked him two questions: where does his brain go and he said “the same place that electricity goes when it finishes lighting a light bulb” and does he come back from that “ever, ever land” of music with all that he went with and he said “more, oh so much more”.

 

When I was a puppy my friend and owner little Ben and I would go to bed together, we’d pull the covers over our head, turn the radio on, and listen to the music coming out of the Blue Room at the Roosevelt Hotel in New Orleans or to Wolfman Jack out of Del Rio.  We were supposed to go to sleep at 9:00 p.m., but little Ben’s mother could not hear the radio when we covered up like that.  I think that was when I was imprinted, that music became part of me.  The music would go straight into my brain, I’d dance in my head and wag my tail to the beat as I snuggled up and put my head on his arm.  He’d hold me tight and we’d drift off together.  I wished that humans had a tail to wag to help them appreciate the moment.  Music is so magical; it goes right into the center of my being.  It doesn’t have to go through thinking and analysis.  I just feel.  Think about it.  Say to yourself, “I did it my way.” Now wrap those 5 words in music, the melody and the beat, now feel that big bump or lump of joy juice that is squeezed out.  Ammonius, open both of your eyes at the same time and speak to me. 

 

 

Ammonius:

 

I’m back, I’m smoothing out – wow, wow.  I just tuned into the last concert before the “Big Bang”; our start over.

 

 

Hattie Mae:

 

How was it?  What was going on?  I’m dying to know.

 

 

Ammonius:

 

Hattie Mae, you once said my brain was pea size and I was stuck in the cause and effect mode so I will give you the few thoughts that are coming through.  All start overs come with built in joy and sorrow and with hope.  Each one with a little more hope than the last.  Ours as did theirs has the special gift of music for us to walk or dance with.  Music is a mirror of all of us including the birds, the bees, and the sycamore trees.  That’s what I heard.  I did not hear any more confusion or complexity that I hear with ours nor did I hear any sector or individual playing as if it were their last concert.  I just heard a lot of life playing the best they know how given the score that they were given and learned.

 

 

Hattie Mae:

 

That’s it?  That’s all?

 

 

Ammonius:

 

Yes, you already knew it; you just didn’t know you knew it. Let’s you and I tune in and join the performance that is going on now.