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The Violinist begins with a long down-bow

The weight of the piece is already fully given; the theme descends into his sound

                                                                                                                    The Eurythmist, born from sound, joins his being to the tone.

and with the down bow, actively passive, falls gently forward.



                                       What I give to you as a down bow    -    I carry forward and offer further

                                                    What I take as an up bow     -    I resuscitate flowing backwards



               What I live as Downward and Upward experience – I live as a Forwards and Backwards one


                    What I live as a play between gravity and levity - I move between earthly front stage and cosmic upstage


                                  As my right side surrenders its weight – I surrender all will


We share the same theme, but not in the same register

We do not sing as one voice singing the same melody twice, but as two voices singing to each other


You have begun moving, and I cascade sixteenth notes backwards and forwards on the fingerboard

And I sing with you, as my arms flow up and down

What I live as forwards and back – I live as up and down

What my left side enlivens as a towards me and an away from me – I harmonize between the heights and the depths




                                                                My downbow                              resounds in me as a stream of movement that begins far                                                                                                                           beyond the backdrop,

                                                                                                                    goes through me forward, and touches the Audience.

                                                                                                                    It is a dynamic


                                                                My Up Bow                                is a call. A direction

                                                                                                                   The larger, higher Audience hovering behind the backdrop                                                                                                                          calls to the Audience sitting in the theater.


                                                                Down Bow: to give life to sound.

                                                                To warm, spiraling sound


                                                                Up Bow: to purify sound

                                                                Pure, cool, crystalline, direct sound

I am in fact handicapped. If all was well made, I would not use the same arm for both bowings. The right hand would pull the bow down from the frog, and the left hand would pull the Up bow from the tip upwards. For an up bow is not pushed from the bottom up. It is called upwards from the heights. It is fully drawn there before being drawn.


                                                                                                              Moving forward, I tumble into layers of warmth.

                                                                                                              The Earth in all its cares is there

                                                                                                              But shining backwards, my movement opens an immense space                                                                                                               behind me.

                                                                                                              The realm of the stars radiates light



In the interplay of down bows and up bows, the melody as a whole arises

In the interplay of forwards and backwards, the cosmic and the earthly realms are woven together




But what stays true for both of our experiences is Harmony

Both across the strings for me - and in-between my major right hand and minor land hand

harmony joins us.

Melody, a feeling tending towards a thought

Harmony, a musical feeling

Rhythm, a feeling almost become an act


I experience sound born from my hands. In the rounded palms of my hands

                                  in the same palms I have when I move the colour black,

distal phalange of the thumb resting above those of the joined fingertips,

a mysterious space left open for warmth, for a life at the center of the darkness

as life within a seed, spiritual image of death



                                                          I touch both fingerboard and bow

                                                          And feel sound resounding there         Opened out, my hands sing out light


What my rounded hands give birth to in warmth – shines forth as light from my open hands




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