Unless otherwise attributed, all content, text or image, on this site is © TaunaLen 2005-2011.
All rights reserved. Republication or redistribution is prohibited without prior written consent.

Friday, August 22, 2008

The Taking of Breath

Deep, resonating bass tones fill the air, vibrating from strings of steel, and flowing, pouring out to fill my ears, my body. Harmony echoes from the finest piano---palpable, moving, and so very sensual. And then, there is the silence. There is a between the notes space that is filled with an intake of air, steady, strong, a near desperate sound, as if the very atmosphere fuels the music spilling from the strings. Breath, drawn as a parched throat would gulp life-giving water from the fountain of youth.

And in that gasp between the notes, that layer of music outside the music, therein lies the passion of the cellist. There is the very heartbeat, the life of one who feels and breathes, who loses himself between the musical notes. The emotion, the passion, the music that is air alone, reverberates within a musician who knows what it is to surrender to the flood and become, himself, part of the deluge.

And the music of breath moves me. It draws my shoulder to my ear, and tilts my head back on my neck. It tickles its way along my spine, as though drawn from my own lungs as I listen and experience the art that is this music, the musician and his gift.

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This post is featured in a brand new collaborative e zine titled
'InTheInkJournal'. I'm very excited about this new venture and flattered to have been chosen as part of the writing team. Check out the journal, and subscribe, for a fresh new look at what it means to write, read, and follow your muse. Let me know what you think!

T.L.

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