Considering our own ephemerality. Life begins, then it ends. What make us different from the housefly? From the flower? The running piece of code? The conversation? The raindrop? The sporadic gust of wind? The heartbeat?
Piano music feels like water, waving, streaming, and soothing. When soft, it touches and envelops the sensations and the soul. When strong, it shows itself as a wave washing it with a smooth force. A staccato feels like little bursts rising from the surface. A legato feels like ripples upon the surface dancing to their own spirit. In general, piano music slides on the skin and leaves fading traces of resonance where it has touched. It caresses and envelops, it rides the listener in waves.
Violin music feels like a wooden dagger. A single note can already stab the emotions deep. It does not harm; it penetrates. It opens new channels among the unexplored, letting air and sunshine breathe into them. It pierces crusts into the sensitive emotions long ignored and/or forgotten, and helps one feel what is there. Like a toothpick piercing play dough, it finds the colors hidden inside and allows them to be felt by the light surface again. It helps us remember we can reshape ourselves, our int…
Violin music feels like a wooden dagger. A single note can already stab the emotions deep. It does not harm; it penetrates. It opens new channels among the unexplored, letting air and sunshine breathe into them. It pierces crusts into the sensitive emotions long ignored and/or forgotten, and helps one feel what is there. Like a toothpick piercing play dough, it finds the colors hidden inside and allows them to be felt by the light surface again. It helps us remember we can reshape ourselves, our int…
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