ORGAN DONOR
I've put churches in empty building shells, bars, strip clubs and even churches. In every case you need an organ. Usually the Casio SK 50. Yesterday I put an organ in my church. And not just any organ. Slick bought Ray Gilkey's organ, and not having any place to put it brought it over to the church. Two keyboards, pedals, stops and a whole bunch of colored buttons and levers don this celestial music maker. It's only fitting that I've spent the past week emptying the contents of the church, mopping the floors and putting in windows on the south side, deciding it was time to start using it, not as a church, but as my studio. I hung the large collages, set up coyote and turkey sculptures and readied empty floor space in order to make new work.
For a good amount of time I've resisted using the church for anything other than storage as I picked away at the repairs, planning to someday hold services. But as the years started piling up, and the congregation moved on, I realized maybe using this building for it's original purpose wasn't in the cards. Why shouldn't I utilize this beautiful space for something other than a gathering "for the quickening of mortal souls"? Why not go right back to my artistic roots and set up a traditional studio, a display gallery and still have enough space to do a wedding or funeral if need be? Then, when we plugged in the Ray Gilkey Memorial Organ it all coalesced. Why had I waited so long? Maybe for this very moment.
Light is streaming in from the southern sky, bathing the wood floors that I continue to mop, removing years of grease and dirt layered on the surface. Raw plaster scars, hidden and preserved under crumbling wallpaper, form veined fingers running floor to cieling. Everything glows in the golden light. A couple more windows. A few floor patches. Keep cleaning. I can feel an appreciative sigh emitting from the timbers. I touch the ivorys of the organ and it moans off key. Ray's presence fills the space. Don't worry old timer. I'll take good care of your organ. I press the button marked Bosa Nova. Ray would be pleased.
For a good amount of time I've resisted using the church for anything other than storage as I picked away at the repairs, planning to someday hold services. But as the years started piling up, and the congregation moved on, I realized maybe using this building for it's original purpose wasn't in the cards. Why shouldn't I utilize this beautiful space for something other than a gathering "for the quickening of mortal souls"? Why not go right back to my artistic roots and set up a traditional studio, a display gallery and still have enough space to do a wedding or funeral if need be? Then, when we plugged in the Ray Gilkey Memorial Organ it all coalesced. Why had I waited so long? Maybe for this very moment.
Light is streaming in from the southern sky, bathing the wood floors that I continue to mop, removing years of grease and dirt layered on the surface. Raw plaster scars, hidden and preserved under crumbling wallpaper, form veined fingers running floor to cieling. Everything glows in the golden light. A couple more windows. A few floor patches. Keep cleaning. I can feel an appreciative sigh emitting from the timbers. I touch the ivorys of the organ and it moans off key. Ray's presence fills the space. Don't worry old timer. I'll take good care of your organ. I press the button marked Bosa Nova. Ray would be pleased.
1 Comments:
my sister was an organ donor, the non-musical kind.
me? i was pegged as bratty.
even, was caught being bratty
your biggest fan,
me
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