A SPECIAL PLACE
It doesn’t matter if you are a woman or a man.  Nor does it matter what you are doing.  It just so happens that in these cases it is a young woman with her violin and an older man with his guitar.  Both of these people appear to be normal pleasant people.  You would never suspect what was hidden inside them.
 
The casually dressed young woman was slouching in a recliner at our house with her feet tucked under her.  There was no evidence of makeup and her hair had received minimal attention.  We had been engaged in pleasant conversation enjoying each other’s company for about an hour.  At her feet lay a violin case.  My wife asked if she would play for us. She responded with a “Sure” and unwound from the recliner picking up the violin case as she stood.  Opening it she pulled out a music stand and set it up then got out her violin.  We continued to chat while she checked its tuning.
 
Satisfied she said, “I play mostly classical” and settled the violin under her chin.  She took a breath like a deep sigh and began to play. Her posture became erect and poised and her face glowed as if she had put on makeup.  I no longer noticed her casual clothing. She maintained this composure through three songs.  Upon finishing the last song she stood frozen for a second.  Then lowering the violin looked up at us with a smile and just a hint of surprise as if to say, “Oh, hi, where have you been?” I think she had gone to a special place filled with the magic of music.

I’ve known the older man for many years.  He and his wife had come up from Texas to visit and since my son and his family were gone for the summer they were staying in his house.  One afternoon I went next door to check on them and as I walked in I heard a guitar.  The older man was sitting on the couch restringing one a neighbor had loaned him.  I knew that for many years, as a hobby, he had been playing in a “Rock and Roll” band, but I had never heard him play.  When he had finished tuning it I asked him to play something for me.  He said, “Well, I don’t know about this old guitar, but I’ll give it a try.”

He brought a stool out to the center of the living room floor and settled himself on it.  Propping the guitar on his knee he picked a little while deciding what to play.  Making his decision he began.  It was an intense song from the 60’s.  He curled his body over the guitar and gripped it tightly.  His face became contorted as he strained out the words.  It appeared his playing and singing required great physical effort. The performance went on for several songs.  When he had finished he dropped his guitar supporting leg and stood up with a self-satisfied look on his face as if awaiting applause. I believe he had been to a place he loves.

  I have a special place also.  My imagination lives there.  It’s where I keep all my “me’s.”  I hope you have one too.  It’s a great place to hangout.

Kim Warren