Untitled

[2005]

She spells passion with an F# minor chord.  Her fingers barely touch the keys as she walks across her sea of black and white, listless, weightless.  She defines life with a Beethoven sonata, today.  Confusing, elusive, modulations.  Yesterday was a Bach day.  Orderly, organized, and right on track.  She likes Bach days the best.

She sits down with her best friend of twelve years.  Patient, faithful, yet always willing to put up a fight, her piano glistens in mahogany beauty as the early morning sun rises gently through the open window.  She sits for a moment with her friend, thinking.  The silence rings in her ears, and the sound is deafening.

Finally, she dives in, head first.  The etude is a perfect ten, and there’s no going back now.  The adventure has begun.

Suddenly she finds herself lost in her world.  A world where no one can touch her, where she makes all the decisions for once, and what she says, goes.  Suddenly she’s free, and she loves it.

She’s flying now.  Soaring from cloud to cloud, measure to measure, dodging thunderbolts of awkward fingerings and two against threes. 

She spells passion with an F# minor chord.  Brahms is her hero, and Mozart is her personal psychiatrist.  All she wants to do is play, and fly forever is her fantasy world of music.