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ESSAY

Rapa Nui

The blind Sun hovering deep down in the horizon. Tough air, late April, planet Earth.

Present. A dirty path in the middle of a field only an optimist would call a runway.

Small, round bushes, detached from the ground, chasing each other all over the

place with the help of a furious wind. I find myself staring at the nearby hut.

Suitcases next to me, old compass around my neck, broken glasses and. a blank

plane ticket in my hand. I could swear a moment ago while I was still comfortably

seated in the airplane, it readone way to Easter Island. Now it is blank. Again.

I picked up the suitcases and stepped towards the small hutsdoor that reminded

me of a strange mirror I encountered a while ago back in. in I dont really know.

Everything seems blurry and the sound of the unknownnature around me plays

hide-and-seek with my senses. I easily approach the door and knock.

A female voice. Gentle movement of her feet adds to a soundscape of screeching air.

I can feel the ocean nearby. She opens[the door]. All of a sudden I am not surprised

anymore. From the first glance of the immense light from the inside I got blindedas

if by.

The blind Sun hovering deep down in the horizon. Tough air, late April, planet Earth.

Present. A dirty path in the middle of a field only an optimist would call a runway.

Small round bushes. wait. I know this. Ive been here. Blank air ticket? Yes. I asked

to come here? I guess.But what happened before, where I did I come from and why?

I dont remember.

And I step towards the small hut. Again? Or for the first time? What I know is that

door reminds me of a mirror Ive seen back home but, where is home? New

York? Belgrade? Earth? I guess I have to keep walking. I easily approach the door

and knock.

A female voice. Gentle movement on the other side of the door. A flashback. Stone

faces that are no longer only faces. They are people now. I met them before, I can

swear. The door opens and all of a sudden I am not surprised anymore. From the

first glance of the immense light from the inside, I got blinded as as if by.

The full Moon cheerfully observes her as she pretends she ridesmy motorbike on

the Easter Islands beach. It is a warm night, smell of oranges and candles around

the blanket. She laughs a ton, acting goofy on the seat of my Harley. I run to her,

ignite the engine and saddle the horse in the direction of a stone family some seven

hundred feet to the north. Sounds of change swirl around my head as we slalom

among dead-serious stone keepers of the beach. Sound of the ocean, the night, the

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dirt. She constantly laughs having a time of her life. An airplane passes above. My

sight is blurred, all I can see is

The blind Sun hovering deep down in the horizon. Tough air, late April, planet Earth.

Am I supposed to play my third A of a song now? Well.. I guess Ill leave it under the

piano, This one time AAB would be just enough. I raise my head from theinstrument, the Island disappears, Sun and Moon turn to lights of a concert hall. I

landed home, finished my piece and sounds of air, waves and night become an

applause from two hundred sixty eight souls. She was one of them. Right there in the

audience, somewhere in darkness. On the Easter Island, with the blank ticket in her

pocket. I went there for her, I stayed there for her, I came back for her.

Her highness.

The music.