When music becomes a visual experience for a writer.
I decided to write what I envisioned while listening to Ballaké Sissoko play the kora. No thinking, no editing just what I saw. I encourage you to listen and see too.
A woman is on a rocky wooden-style boat. It’s extremely crowded, every passenger shoulder to shoulder, jolting in unison with every wave that hits the boat. They grab one another to prevent each other from falling over. At the edge of the boat, several seasick passengers hanging over, letting it all out. Back to the woman, she looks over to her side. Beside her is a child that looks to be about 5 or 6 years old. The woman smiles at the child.
The woman and the child soaking wet, now walking on brick pavement. She squeezes the child’s hand as they take in the view. Tall, romanesque buildings fill the scene. She soaks in the unfamiliarity of the ground, buildings, and air. They continue down an archway path leaving their wet footprints. Many who were once sailing, follow behind them in a line.
In a large, dark hall filled with rows of sleeping people, the only light source coming from an overhead glass ceiling. The moon casts its light on the sleeping child. The woman wide awake beside the child, caressing their face. As she pets the child, she sees visions of her hopes and desires: the woman in a library, rushing with her books on her way to class, as she approaches her desk she waves to her other classmates who were on the same boat. The building across from her is a children’s school. The woman waits at the gates, the child, now her child, runs towards the woman giving her the warmest hug. They walk holding hands swinging along the path they once walked, now living the possibilities.
