it is one of those odd moments in life. one minute you are going to put a new load to wash, the next your feet are carrying you to the night-ed backyard, the strains of a violin too alive to be a recording. and you realize the neighbor who just moved to the house back-of-yours is a musician. the walls on her covered carport- the ones always shut, darkened by what looked like shelving full of somethings of the previous incarnation- cleaned and opened and revealing a white room occupied by four ladies rehearsing. you see the violin, a cello, and dare not more, for fear of being spy espied, an intruder
and for a moment- for a fleeting moment as you know it will be, when you divest yourself of darkness accepted as perennial cloak- you are witness to transfixed joy, consider the lilies in the field is hope and balm enough, and epictetus is right
© 2011 vanessa seijo
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Comments
I would prefer to think that this is more than chance, the musician neighbor moving so close. Maybe, just maybe, you drew her there with your artful poetic energy, to delight and amaze and inspire.
Yes he was.
:-) / Loved this. / R
and what tr ig said ~
I might have mentioned Epictetus, too, but to disagree with his admonition not to laugh much, which I would have done had I stumbled upon such a glorious concert in my backyard (after I came back in, of course). But, then, maybe I do laugh too much. This I shall ponder.
My apologies for the insouciance, dear Vanessa, but this is so joyous and I am so grateful to receive another of your precious gifts of artful vision and insight.
I can only hope my neighbors think as well of my rehearsals at home.
No complaints in the last five years, so I can only hope.
R
A muscian living next door to a poet, how provident.
Epictetus is always right.
I also love violin, particularly baroque violin, but it's not an instrument I play. You have to contort yourself so to get that beautiful sound. Holding an instrument up with your chin to the side just isn't easy. Violas are bigger and heavier, so they're worse.
If you've never heard the Bach solo violin sonatas and partitas, get yourself a copy. It may be the best music I know of, period. If you can find a recording by Arthur Grumiaux, get that one. Trust me. There are very few things as utterly amazing as hearing a fugue played on one violin in real time with no overdubs. The first time you hear it, it's like "Who's the second player?" and then you realize that There Isn't One.
Moon discloses her pallid face.
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P.S.
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It's Good Summertime Tunes.