10.19.08

Vera, Inter Alia

Posted in Uncategorized at 12:45 pm by Miracle ♪♫

Books, a violin, and me: A picture that some of you are all too accustomed with, even to the point of eidetic precision - or aversion, and yet, all these, mostly because of Vera.

Although my violin photos are tolerably aesthetic, thanks to having artistic intimates who know my very few better angles; they eclipse the truth that I am a lousy violinist. They camouflage the not discourteous but not exactly encouraging you’re-better-off-as-a-pianist look that several audiences have propounded. But why do I persist and refuse to be held back at the risk of being accused of trying too hard, why impose this certain difficulty on myself, why believe that someday I’ll be nearly as good as Franz? (Insert Franz’ haw-haw here)

But who is Vera? Despite descending from a lineage of paternal and maternal musical ancestors, Vera was the vital inspiration for my passion concerning the violin… and believe it or not, she was but a mere character from a book I once read when I was only four or five years old. Notwithstanding the fact that details of the story are enveloped in two decades of hazy memory, I still remember her as a violinist whose Ukrainian hometown experienced a great flood. Having salvaged no other personal belonging but her violin, she sought sanctuary at the well-built opera house along with other townspeople. While around her hundreds of disheartened victims lamented over lives and possessions washed away, she brought out her violin and comforted them with her music. Through music, she lifted up their drenched spirits and through music, she gave hope.

Not only was she the probable subconscious antecedent of my Slavic attraction or the testament that literature and music will forever be synergic in my life, her story was what fueled my desire and yearning to play the violin and transmit hope through it. Howbeit, as it is the nature of most desires, achieving this particular passion is a long and winding road, (shh… nobody notify the cliché police) and it took me circa fifteen years later to be able to run my hands through the becoming curves and details of a real violin and essentially, produce a sound from the violin. It screeched horribly the first time… but to me, it was not solely a screech, it was the sonus of my outstretched fingers finally in contact with a dream train that was at the same time arriving and embarking, and slowing down for me somewhere in between.

We should not play an instrument, hone our voices, and focus on our professions only because we dream of being able to do so skillfully, we should aspire that through music and whatever it is that we do, we will be able to praise The Giver, convey love, and provide hope to our fellow pilgrims. We are all in our own musical and spiritual journeys I believe, and giving hope is a definite goal in our lives, but it is only logical that we must first nurture this hope in ourselves until our cup runneth over, and then may others sip of the hope emanating from our own cups – demitasse in my case. Sometimes, I am guilty of losing consciousness of these things… and then I revive Vera anew in my memory and whisper hopefully, “Someday, I’ll be nearly as good as Franz…”

*giggles and disappears*

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