Eric (Euterpe) Holloway (iaminspiration) wrote in darkcarnivale, @ 2011-06-25 00:11:00 |
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Current mood: | peaceful |
Entry tags: | eric holloway |
Who: Eric Holloway
What: Eric musing on the carnival, and his calling's slowly coming to him.
When: Mid evening
Where: Just outside the carnival grounds
Rating: G
Status: Solo/Complete/Closed
There was something electric about the sounds of the carnival when it was lit up, sounds of surprise from the performance tents, the vaguely disturbed shouts from the freakshow area, the laughter and the life all backed by the happy tunes from the various musicians dotted around the Midway. Instead of clashing, their music met in the middle, a raucous harmony that caused the heart to race, the blood to pump, delight to bubble up in the hearts of even the surliest individuals.
Such was the power of music. It had the ability to break hearts, to mend them again, to reduce someone to tears or cause two people to fall in love.
Whenever the nights were like this, and he was not needed on the Midway, Eric sat nearby with a guitar in his hand, strumming idle chords, playing whatever riffs came to his fingers, notes plucked from the inspired recesses of his mind. The music floated around and above and within him, swirling and exploding in a shower of colours in his mind’s eye, as if watching the sea, but instead of water, he saw colours, each note a different one, a kaleidoscope, a landslide, a waterfall of brightness. It was difficult for him to put into words: he didn’t quite know how to describe it other than… he saw it. He saw it all unfolding. The music got under his skin, into his mind and bugged him until he had to play it or write it down, he knew the tones would drive him insane. Sometimes he thought he was a little insane, the way everything in his life had music put to it, old tunes he thought he recognised echoing around his head but then when he put them together, they were completely new, unheard of.
He was drawn from his thoughts by someone nearby, just standing at the edge of the festivities looking a little sad, his fingers twitching at his side in a way that Eric recognised at least on some level. He wet his lower lip and got to his feet, guitar being pushed around so it was hanging behind his back, feeling the top knocking against the back of his legs as he walked towards the lost soul.
“Hey, can I help you?” he asked, catching the young man’s attention. “Are you lost? Everything sorta happens over there,” he gestured towards the midway.
The man just smiled at him and shrugged, “Not really feeling it.” There was just something about the guy that drew Eric in and he reached out, touching the guy’s upper arm.
“Sometimes we all feel like that, you could always go home.” It wasn’t like he wanted the guy to leave, but there was no point being at a carnival if you weren’t going to enjoy yourself, right? After all, why would tell someone to stay if they didn’t like it? “But I get the feeling you’re looking for something here.”
“Sort of, I suppose.”
Eric’s lips curled into a half smile, “You found it yet?” His eyes glanced down to the guy’s fingers, and he wondered if the guy realised that they were twitching in time with the music playing around them, filling the air with sound and life. He wanted to help the man, help him find the music - Eric seemed to instinctively know that was what was going on, that was what he was missing.
There was silence between them for a minute before the man started talking about his job, about how he was having difficulty creating anything, how he felt like he’d hit a slump. Eric didn’t know what it was that prompted him to pull the man aside, draw him away from the lights and the sounds to a more secluded area, sitting down and actually offering his guitar to the man.
“Play me something,” he’d said, just soft but demanding enough and they sat together until the carnival closed, bouncing ideas off each other. The time had passed as quick as a heartbeat and Eric could see that the man had been inspired.
It made something inside of Eric swell with pride as he and the man went their own separate ways, an alien feeling of something clicking into place, like he’d found his calling. Which, in his mind, was absolute shit, so he pushed it aside and headed back into the emptying Midway to go and find his wayward best friend to make sure he wasn’t doing anything that would get him into too much trouble.
And he did his best not to think about how he’d been drawn to talk to the man, and how they’d managed to spend at least three hours just talking about his music and not once had Eric heard the sound of his own song in the forefront of his mind.