A String Of Seductions
All music is special, but I soon realized one sound was a different kind of special. The violin was more than just an instrument producing beautiful sounds. It was physical somehow. The notes of the violin would run over my skin, leaving little bumps in their tracks. The vibrations would travel up and down my spine making me shiver. The long, sorrowful cries would wrap themselves around my chest and squeeze, while the shot, joyful tones would bubble like laughter and wake hordes of butterflies that tickled my stomach.
Violin was my first big love, making me feel things nothing else could.
As I grew older a second instrument pulled at my heart strings. And this time it was electric. The guitar shredded its way into my life. Wild and exciting, this was the bad boy of the instruments. Guitar had no use for something as posh as a bow, it was all hands on, baby. While it would unplug and show it’s soulful side with some regularity, it was it’s ability to distort and strike power chords that made my knees weak.
For a long time, I couldn’t get enough. I wanted more, harder, faster. And guitar delivered. Guiding me from rock, to hard rock, to metal. During those years, my love was divided. Classical violin on some days, heavy guitar on others.
Until one day I was visiting music, and something had changed. I was appreciative, but a little bored. Violin and guitar were doing their best. Their best was pretty damn good, but I just wasn’t feeling it anymore. This was when a third instrument sauntered over, drawing my attention. A sound much like the violin but deeper, richer.
Intrigued, I lingered to listen for a while. The music seemed to speak to me. “Why is a woman like you,” it asked, “declaring her love for those two clowns?”
I wasn’t quite ready to throw violin and guitar under the buss though. They each play at a different side of me.
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” the new instrument said, while running it’s notes over my skin, sending a shiver down my spine I hadn’t felt in some time. “I am cello. And I can be anything you desire. Your beloved guitar will sound like a poser once you hear me rock out.”
I had to admit, it was impressive. But I had outgrown my rock phase long ago. It’s not that I didn’t like some good rock every now and then, it had just become a little soft for my tastes.
“I understand,” cello whispered, “you like classical, and you like metal. But really, why would you have to choose one over the other? Don’t you want it all?”
All music is special. The violin and the guitar are a different kind of special. But the cello, the cello is what good sex is. Everything I desire, how I desire, when I desire.