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Rating: Four months have passed, and for four months I've been thinking about how to describe her concert. I would write, erase; write, and erase. I was desperate.
"An unmissable evening, the one in piazza duomo in Brescia..". No, too formal.
"A stunning concert, unforgettable..". No, too clichéd.
"Ah, Loreena, your music has profoundly enchanted me..". No, too sappy.
Time passed, the images became more and more rarefied and laborious, everything turned into a distant and impalpable dream.
It was a cool summer evening. I remember her mane of red hair, her shy and sincere smiles, her veiled and melancholic voice, her harp, the magic, the time that seemed to no longer exist, the tears smothered by the echoing applause of the audience. I couldn't clap; I was motionless and petrified, not breathing. And with each song, it felt like I was flying, sinking, floating among the waves of a paradise that didn't belong to me and never would.
You must be wondering why I'm still here talking about her, after having droned on about her entire discography. I wonder the same thing. I don't care about anything, I don't want to give grades or judgments, I don't want to get lost in the senselessness of words; I just want to remember, that's all. Remember a spell of two scarce hours that at night I dream of reliving, until the sun rises.
The concert ended but I remained nailed to my seat, while people left satisfied and Loreena disappeared behind the stage, like a heavenly vision. The spell was broken forever. Silence. I burst into tears like only children know how.
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