Posts Tagged ‘Violin’

Those two Familiar violin strains! One of them was probably 17 years old, wearing a green kalmuk coat with large bone buttons. The coat was much too large for him. He held the violin tightly under his chin; his cap was pulled down over his eyes. His hand was concealed in a fingerless glove; his fingers were red and blue with cold. The other one was older and wore a chenille coat. Both were blind. A little girl, who presumably guided them, stood in front of them, thrust her hands under her scarf. We gathered one by one, a few admirers of those melodies – a postman with his mail bag, a little boy, a maidservant, a couple of dock workers. The elegant carriages rolled noisily by; the carts and wagons drowned out the melodies, which emerged fragmentarily for a moment. You two unfortunate artists, do you know that those strains hide in themselves the glories of the whole world?

Soren Kierkegaard (Danish Philosopher 1813-1855)

A bit of classical, pop and jazz…. enjoy!

Each of us have been dispatched a unique tune that we’ve been created to hum, to sing, or to play – and one of life’s greatest enjoyments is to embark upon the journey of discovery that ultimately unveils the beautiful melody – the one of a kind orchestration-  that is solely ours. It cannot be stolen. It cannot be faithfully copied or imitated. It is ours alone, and it is for us alone to sing.

And it is in that zone that true peace can be attained, and true fulfillment and satisfaction achieved.

And what if we have only been supplied with one string upon which to play our tune, then let us pluck it with all of our might as a master violinist would play a complete instrument. Let us practice day and night – fully committed to becoming grand masters who will usher forth a concerto that will fill the room whenever we enter. Let it pour forth with such clarity and purity of sound, that others will hunger to hear more and be urged to discover their own melody.

For it is as we all stay true to our melodic distribution that we will create, in unison, a symphony – far greater than anything penned by Beethoven.

By Peter G. James Sinclair (www.motivationalmemo.com )

Poem written by: Myra Brooks Welch

It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin, but he held it up with a smile.

“What am I bid, good people”, he cried,
“Who starts the bidding for me?”
“One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?”
“Two dollars, who makes it three?”
“Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,”

But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.

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A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousand of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

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