I am a synesthete. If I listen to music, my brain immediately tunes in to those frequencies and can't help but live within the colourful sounds that spring and spread through the air. Music is an inspiration and today I want to talk about what happens to me when I listen to the voice of Moran Magal. It’s an instantly recognizable voice, with its smooth and sweet colouring, a voice that has the ability to take me back in time to that period of one’s youth when everything is still so mysterious, violent, with blinding lights, colours a dense purple and deep black, one’s emotions so intense. Accompanied by the sound of Moran's voice, I thus begin a lengthy pilgrimage along the streets of the world, carrying only a bag on my back containing all of my hopes, and leaning on my pen like a walking stick. I need many centuries, multiplied by the lives I've lived, beginning over and over from scratch, without ever fully living one out, because I know that my life is a mixture of earth and indistinct, blurred horizons, between fiction and truth and for me, there are no boundaries between these two dimensions; I’m a beggar for the absolute in the relativity of time, dramatically poised between two worlds, both to which I do not belong.
Perhaps mine is the fate of all those who are uprooted, losing their homeland, their language, their identity. Moran's voice is a bright new colour pervaded by blessedness that has the ability to lead me into that absolute dimension where I can create and feel safe, at home wherever I am in the world. Thank you Moran!