I sit in front of my computer monitor. My head goes down in my hands and the tears flow. I bury my head in woven arms. My face is wet with tears, I'm keening, sobbing. I can't stop. I play the piece again and again. I can't get enough.
It's the viola. Beautifully, hauntingly played, mesmerising. The notes reach down inside my soul, my body, my spirit, my entire humanness and pull at the guts of me. It soars, swoops, dives; dives to the very depths, its dark night chords pulling and pushing; it goes up an entire key from the depths and reaches for the sky. I'm flying and dipping with it.
And my piano, haunting and triumphant it carries the viola and the viola carries me. I am carried away. Hurting, loving, crying, abandoned, restored, lifted, dropped.
Later in bed I plug in earphones and listen again. Put my tablet away and sleep on a bed of notes.
"Stuff that seems to come out of nowhere bam can be so confronting, yet means so much."
I said to her.