Assertion
By sad_infamy_sings on February 20, 2022 10:16 pm
the strings playing, it’s a constant in my life, my mother is the cello, the violin, the viola. I never thought I could be able to pick it up, but today was the day, and it was speaking to me like a large strange creature, amiable, we worked together, I began to learn it’s voice just as she learned mine. Before today, I always just saw it roosting in it’s case, like a large mummy that only rises when the stars are aligned a certain way, then it would sit on the stage with my mother and proudly bellow. I stumbled around it in the music room, worried I’d chip it’s nails or ruin the sacred. finally in my arms it showed me it’s great wingspan and a howling growl. I felt it in my chest and borrowed it’s resonance. The buzz, the squeals, the roar of the lowest string as I drafted a delicate curve, I felt in this stroke my own anger and release. The assertion that I am unknowable, and yet this cello knows who I am.
welcome to the woods/the woods are welcoming
everything is fake here
what will you take from there
stones made of plaster
panels made of fibers
even the birds are fake here
Audio works licensed by author under:
CC Attribution Noncommercial Share Alike (BY-NC-SA)
