Friday, 14 January 2011

Listening

14.

My violin sings into the quiet corners of this new home.
The walls lean closer.
Listening.

***
I have a beautiful room to play music in, now that I've moved home.

Each time I play, it's like the instruments are finding their way into the space. The piano sounds a bit inhibited. Needs to settle in a bit. But the violin, used to a life on the road, rushes in like a child who can't wait to check out every nook. The sound rises boldly towards the high ceilings, flourishes and dives around the cornices and smiles, satisfied.

The feel of the room is going to change with every note played here.