I remember the time my 4/4 size violin found itself in the hands of my talented teacher. Tucking the instrument under her chin, she drew the rosin-powdered bow across the strings, cold and metal.
I remember the way my teacher angled her eyebrows as a harmonious sound filled the air. She retook the bow a couple times, dramatically sweeping it back and forth as if she was trying to sweep the violin clean.
And I remember the way I watched, spellbound.
She was reaching inside the violin, reaching into its depths, grasping, seeking for something to guide her and unite her with the violin. I knew I could never find that something by myself. She swept the strings once again, and smiled angelically at me. At last, she handed the violin back. Back to my unsteady, tense hands. But I was filled with hope, hope that someday – someday – I would soar my bow over the four tightened cords of metal and fly.
Music is medicine for my heart; my cure for stress and despair. The resonating chords of a grand piano delight my senses. A high, wispy dance of a flute skips through my head. The deep tone of a cello shakes my heart. Music is powerful. It can heal, give pleasure, and even bring forth miracles. Yes, anything can happen when notes spin through the air.
– That Girl Over There