CREDIT BELONGS WHERE CREDIT IS DUE
[This chapter is slightly different from the previous one.]
A Heart One Would Never Expect
Music is what feelings must sound like. I am above my emotions; my emotions do not rule my consciousness. If I allow myself emotions free range then I would be no better than the blokes milling around London off on their own personal affairs. Caring is not an advantage, it never was and never will be. All it will bring is heartache, sorrow and enough tears that could not produce any more. A heart's sole purpose is to mediate the exchange of blood and oxygen throughout the body, nothing more and nothing less. So why does the heart cry out in anguish at times? I did not understand until I played my first note on my violin.
I sought solace in my music. I chose the violin after I heard passed by a small quartet rehearsing outside on the streets. The violin was the most elegant sound I'd ever heard. From that moment on, I begged and pleaded until my Mother and Father bought me a Stradivarius. I would never admit to this, but I am eternally grateful for their gift. The violin and bow were very expensive, but rightly so. Stradivarius instruments are next to non-existent. This violin was varnished in deep roan colour; it almost looked red at times when the sunlight beamed on it correctly. As for the bow, it also was a masterpiece. The bow had the whitest horsehair ever possible, and inside the frog was nestled a glimmering piece of shell. It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful this instrument is.
This violin was varnished in deep roan colour; it almost looked red at times when the sunlight beamed on it correctly. As for the bow, it also was a masterpiece. The bow had the whitest horsehair ever possible, and inside the frog was nestled a glimmering piece of shell. It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful this instrument is. With this beautiful woodwork at my side constantly I took lessons from a well-known master of the various stringed instruments and learned quickly. He taught me how to let my emotions run through my music. If I had learned nothing else from my countless years with him it was this one fact: Music is what feelings sound like. Music needs emotion or it is nothing more that noise in the background of life.
Now as I have moved on and many changes had happened, the one thing to have kept me from going insane was my violin. If I didn't have my music then I would have been on the streets living in the Tube at night and scraping around for a meagre existence or had died by the hands of the many enemies I made- honestly unintentional most of the time.
When my parents passed away each in their respective time, I played for days constantly, ignoring that my fingers were bleeding from pressing on the strings or that my right arm had started to ache from holding the bow. That pain seemed superficial compared to what I felt. First my father whose health had failed him at last, then my mother's, I thought sorrow would have been more bearable in my mother's time since I knew what it felt like with my father's. It was hardly the case at all! Why!? I had beaten that question to no end. A void I know that will never be able to fill again, I loved my parents. Yes, I have a heart, a loving heart. I know my parents loved me even though I never once heard the word 'love' or 'affection' come from their speech. They had an unusual way of showing affection, it was through tangible objects- my violin. I played every slow piece I had ever learnt. The Requiem seemed to help soothe my heartache the most. "He's writing sad music. Doesn't eat, barely talks, only to correct the television. I'd say he was heart-broken, but, well he's Sherlock. He does all that anyway."
SEE PART II