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Grieving Wine

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Last night while I was at orchestra rehearsal and we were playing Beethoven I got very melancholy.  Not because of the music, but because I remember how many great times I’ve had having a couple of glasses of wine at home and pulling out my violin.  Playing on a couple glasses of wine definitely took me to even higher realms.  And what about all of those concerts?  When everyone is hyped up on adrenaline afterwards and all of the musicians go out for drinks?  That just can’t be recreated in a sober state – I doubt it very much.  Artists and drinking to reach the higher realms go together like Laverne & Shirley, PB & J and Calvin & Hobbes.  How in tarnation am I going to never be able to have a glass or two of wine before a concert again?  This seems unimaginable.  It made me really sad.  Violin Wine

Somehow this morning after my jolt of caffeine I took pen to paper and vomited out a beautiful birthday poem to my brother who turns 30 next week.  I was quite surprised by what came out.  I would say that sometimes I amaze myself, but then I have to banish that Ego to Neverland and remember that I’m just a channel.  People used to ask Bobby Dylan how the *&@#%^$&* he wrote his songs – which would come pouring out of him in 10 minutes.  And he said, “I didn’t write them, I just tuned into them.”

Exactly.  “Those” songs are already out there, they are just waiting to be Dis-covered.  All we hafta do is tune into the right frequency and there it comes, from the ether, down the waterfall, into the brain and out onto the paper.


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