Send me where? Up and down, around, in and out. Music reaches through and into me like nothing else can. It is both soft and hard. Persisting, hesitating, glancing shyly over a shoulder and pounding at the door. Demanding.

The art of music is seduction.

Music means soul. means color. means taste.

Music, like words, is a life. A living organism unto itself--each note, each stanza an adventure, a love story.

Oh how I want to clear this study room right now, toss the desks from the window, put on the fullest skirt and slide across the smooth floor in my stocking feet! I want to spin, to fly and leap through the air.

I'm the five year old the seven year old the twelve year old the twenty-three year old in love with music and motion and the feel of my body as it moves in time with the gentle pluck of the E string, the diminishing chords, the melody and harmony and minor melodic scales.....

And all this, this is part of me somewhere and can only exist under my calm surface for a short while until...until I could erupt. Following the melody line raises my heart beat, not the flight or fight response but dance or die.

This love for classical music, the music that by its very essence makes my eyes blur and the deepest part of me unsatisfied, wanting more, on the edge, just a little more and then--phantasmagoric bliss perhaps?

Give me dancing shoes but also give me a flute in hand, the sheet music, the accompaniest, the concert hall empty until my first notes sing out, clear and layered and vibrato reverberating vibrating the buzz of the sweet and simple.

Music is contrast, is tension held just long enough.