types of love

The light shines through the blossom in a white vase on my windowsill.I love it,i love to look at it i even love to talk about it with my friends and family when we were all sitting stuffing our faces with easter foods and easter sweets.Christmas Easter what do you do with it when you are not a christian you eat and drink yourself through the day and night and you try to give it all a different name so that i can enjoy it without the religious weight .Anyway to get back to the blossom ;i asked my friends what they associated it with.I was drifting from Russian Tcheckovian drama to stylised japanese gardens where one moves and lives the unspoken to a tree in my childhood that i had acquired as my "readingtree".It was comfortable to sit on and it generously rained its pink blossoms on me once a year which invariably created the kind of ecstasy in me for a brief moment that i would later in life recognise as being called" in love".Was i in love with my tree ,was i in love with all the frozen stars on the loose snow when i skied down a mountain in Austria on my own for the first time and felt a hundred percent elated in extreme hapiness.No.Yes i was in love with the feeling of being alive right there and then This can also happen in the presence of another human being when you pick up their energy and the pulse of their presence. The guardian on saturday had a small interview with the Grand Master of piano Alfred Brendel.Once(i heard him many times) i heard him play schubert’s last sonata at the salzburger festspiele and felt he had come close death and the mystyicism of life in his"touche" and i gave in to his interpretation of all this and sat back, fullfilled ,deeply in love. For a short period of time Brendel,through Schubert, was the most important person in my life.In the guardian he says there are 27 ways of loving.Why 27 ,well possibly this is the first number that came into his head.I could say "there are 13 ways to love"just because that’s my lucky number.Which again is random.May the loving be japanese or russian or dutch or even ..irish its a mystery and i will have to read Sthendal again to refresh myself on the subject.Time is running out today ,space is vast