De-frazzling
Mar. 25th, 2005 12:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
firstfrostThis was, perhaps, not the best of times for my mother to visit. I am not at my best as a host, as I am bouncing between prepping for the Oath season finale on Saturday, finishing ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shumashi's pre-finale plots in a four-day blitz, fussing over the Easter Egg Hunt on Sunday... Ah well. One thing at a time.
Several weeks ago when 600 users needed their passwords changed, by the end of the day, I was sure I needed a drink. So I stopped at Tosci's, and had a hot chocolate with a scoop of ice cream in it. As I sat at their uncomfortable table and tried to shake off the stress of the day, I started paying attention to the music they were playing. A cello? Something like that, just one instrument, surrounded by silence, following its own path, note by note. Each sonorous tone felt like a long stroke of a wood rasp, smoothing me, shaving away the encrusted roughness on my soul. I just sat there, eyes shut, letting everything be pared away, note by note. I don't know why it affected me so strongly. I like Wagner and Mahler and the other brass-heavy composers. I teaseharrock for listening to "wussy strings". But yet this one cello was wringing me nearly to tears.
Anyhow. I asked the Tosci's guy what it was: Bach's Unaccompanied Cello Suites 1, 2, and 5, as played by Edgar Meyer on the double bass (not a cello after all). And now I own it, and it is playing now, and even in the ten minutes it has taken me to type this, I have gone from frazzled to calm, as note by note, I am straightened and smoothed and unbent.
shumashi's pre-finale plots in a four-day blitz, fussing over the Easter Egg Hunt on Sunday... Ah well. One thing at a time.Several weeks ago when 600 users needed their passwords changed, by the end of the day, I was sure I needed a drink. So I stopped at Tosci's, and had a hot chocolate with a scoop of ice cream in it. As I sat at their uncomfortable table and tried to shake off the stress of the day, I started paying attention to the music they were playing. A cello? Something like that, just one instrument, surrounded by silence, following its own path, note by note. Each sonorous tone felt like a long stroke of a wood rasp, smoothing me, shaving away the encrusted roughness on my soul. I just sat there, eyes shut, letting everything be pared away, note by note. I don't know why it affected me so strongly. I like Wagner and Mahler and the other brass-heavy composers. I tease
harrock for listening to "wussy strings". But yet this one cello was wringing me nearly to tears. Anyhow. I asked the Tosci's guy what it was: Bach's Unaccompanied Cello Suites 1, 2, and 5, as played by Edgar Meyer on the double bass (not a cello after all). And now I own it, and it is playing now, and even in the ten minutes it has taken me to type this, I have gone from frazzled to calm, as note by note, I am straightened and smoothed and unbent.
