Clefs & Certainties

Clearly, this is going to be interesting.

Imagine creation.

Bringing something to life from utter blankness.

Physics calls it an impossibility.

Something from nothing.

It's like trying to conjure a watermelon out of thin air, it's IMPOSSIBLE.

Except, in this case, it is entirely possible.

In fact, it is a certainty.

It is a certainty that my bow will drag across the strings.

It is a certainty that my hand will find a corresponding rhythm.

These two certainties, wrought together, beginning, ending, living, experiencing, dying together,

will shape the next few moments.

It is a certainty that it will shape most of my life, from conception, into infinity.

All made from these two hands.

These two hands, scarred at times, loved at others.

My two manipulators.

In the past, they have played, been balled up, been slashed.

They have been the cause of love, as well as it's destruction.

All this, but the most important thing, the most defining action they will ever be capable of, is creation.

Creation of that utterly beautiful thing we call music.

Music.

A word that belies the importance of itself.

Music.

Two syllables that speak for something that transcends definition.

Music is its own beginning, end, creation, undoing.

It can be said to achieve almost anything.

It can spark attraction, burn it into love, then cool it to ice.

It can create, give birth, maim, kill, destroy.

Its certainty is that it will do some of these.

It is impossible for it to not achieve it.

But I have strayed from the main point.

The main point being the certainties in life.

Just as it is impossible for my bow to not create beauty, it is impossible for it to not create anger.

For every dulce, there must be fuoco.

For every precious pianissimo, a hard, unforgiving fortissimo.

There must be balance in music.

Just as there must be a balance in life.