In the Heart of the Moon

12.2.07 In the Heart of the Moon

Ali Farka Touré, a famous Malian musician has an album called “in the Heart of the Moon”. The music starts slow, a constant rhythm that is patient and calm, repetitive yet playful, elegant in it’s assurance of itself. It has an effect that leads a listener out of the world he knows, floating him away into a realm of .

As a newcomer to Mali, I find myself feeling as if I am being led into the heart of this music and into the heart of the moon itself. It is vast here, without doubt, a grand stage for discovery and beauty. It is also a bit lonely.

I arrived in Bamako after weeks bursting with social engagements, energy, inspiration and play; after weeks of hearing “ You are invited” from every person on the street; after a lovely and lingering disease of twitterpation. Living with an overflowing cup, I come to Bamako to find I can only fill it half way. It is only reasonable that walking into the echoing rooms of my brand new home be a little disconcerting. I feel overwhelmed by the space, by the sound of it, by the knowledge that it is all mine for the next three years, by my position in regard to those around me. I feel as if I have been spinning with my arms outstretched, face to the sky and I stop, let my arms hang and feel the whole world tilt around me. It is only now, listening to the album in the quiet of my home that I take a lesson from the late Farka Touré: to have patience with myself and with my new home.

I feel the need to address the emotional adventure before I can lay claim to the physical one. Soon, I will find the words to bring life to the world that continues to build behind this dam.