Metaphysical Musical Meanderings Anonymous

The clock strikes, marking the passing of another hour. He speaks to me, a soul emerging from a simple shell, a shell of intricately carved, French wood. Kai finally comes alive with the downward glide of my arm. He cries in anguish, sings in pure ecstasy, eerily mirroring the whims and ambivalence of human emotion – my human emotion. He and I engage in an eloquent interaction in this blue-curtained practice room, seemingly intertwined, yet independent. The most frightening part: my presence dictates that sudden vitality; I have that absolute power. Nonetheless, I struggle to find that fine line where I end and he starts.

One summer ago with my violin, touring Europe with the New Jersey Youth Symphony was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. The brick colored roofs seemed to me a defining factor in the streets of Prague, just as the constant appearance of "Mozart Balls" chocolate has been in Vienna. There, music thrives with vigor and verve. I recall sitting among my best friends in the Musikverein, pulling at the heartstrings of both audience and musician. The immense capability required to share this music left me in a state of warmth, as if I were crawling into soft, just-washed blankets after a tiring day in the...