Miscellaneous:

[ChrisA]

The Cellist


Before the music began, the cellist held himself in solemn equipoise as if

awaiting the notes to occur to him from some deep inner sanctum that

reigned supreme in absolute silence until the spark of sound manifested itself

in musical movement—and a lovely vibration, as a secret from the gods,

passed into his being and drizzled out of the cherry-wood bow, which glided

along the angles of string and counterbalancing the steady movement of the

bow, the musician sat attentively upright attuned to the orders of his Muse,

and I watched how with increasing gravity and self-restraint the cellist

fought to sustain each passing note he played, as a rock climber will grip a

mountain crag for life, clutching even ice, before the notes had time to

disappear quietly into the architecture of the whole composition—he

surrendered to the music by degrees, gradually and gracefully and finally

playfully, but I could clearly see the melody enchanted him before it agonized

him and lifted him away from his physical person and placement there on the

edge of his cushioned chair in that concert hall on April 10, 2005 while the

lines in his face vied to translate the mysterious abduction of his soul, a

tense enduring pain which emerged in the folds of the cellist’s hearty brow,

thick sweat glistening over his closed and compressed lids, as the highest

point of a breaking wave will suddenly drop out of midair and soak the sand in

oblivion, so the white and ruddy clashes of the young man’s face conveyed

the pained expression of a sudden collapse into the chords; he embodied in

these moments the real Shaman, tethered between God and man, Earth and

Heaven, demonstrated by the swift movement back and forth of the bow,

a tideway of notes rushing forth, jetsam of sound bursting out, the lithesome

bow aquiver with rapturous delight, and in the epiphany of the cellist’s music

I awakened to my own inevitable surrender, to dance with the Creator, the

Artist, the Musician, as His will carries us all away, returning us to Eternity.



CRA

11/17/2005, revised 10/30/2006

[MsJacquiiC]

Hey CHRIS - This piece is simply beautiful. I'm not sure that I would quite call it a poem - but the language kinda makes me wanna say yes - Your voice is captivating.

I myself was a bandgeek (a devoted, dedicated and eternally special bandgeek) I played the tuba... If I was part of the symphony and strings niche - I'd have wanted to play either the cello or the bass (the sonorous sound)

That's what your piece is like: sonorous, beautiful sound - What is your inspiration for having written this piece? Are you into classical music as well? Do you perhaps play the cello? I've got questions.

At anyrate - Thanx for sharing this piece with us - I think the most beautiful concept on earth (besides poetry & love) is the concept of music... Really more than a concept actually, but more of the absolute joie de' vivre that really great music can inspire in anyone.

Jacquii.

[ChrisA]

Ms. Jacquii,

Classical music is one of my "entertainments." I don't watch television and when I want to relax I listen to classical. I've been doing this for a couple years now, every night before I go to bed, I lie down on my couch and let my thoughts dissipate until the music takes over and soothes me. So yes, I do have an affinity to classical music.

Chris