Thursday, January 12, 2012

Solo

The last nasty note of the tune is played.  Fingers sweat.  The viola begins to dread as she is dreading.  He then asks the question; that most dreaded question alive: "what do you think about when you play this piece?"  She is taken aback and torn, close to death of emotional control.  She then stutters, "water... and... my father."  The tune is slow and emotional, flowing like the wind.  She always thinks of father when she play it.  But her father is passed, and she dreads when she is asked that question by the conductor.  She answer quickly, but the tears still come before she can restrain.  She has played the piece before without emotion, but now the emotion is spreading like plague, and she has no choice but to play out.  She plays again for the conductor, this time, slower, and she is snapped at by tears.  She couldn't care less about the solo.  Her father would want her to care though.  But how can she when he's gone?

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