I will freely admit that I am under the spell of the violin. For years, I have loved that instrument above all others because of the sound it makes, the legends behind the instrument and the people throughout history who have fallen under its spell. I love the violin so much so that my next novel, tentatively titled Open A, is based on a fictional violinist and a wide variety of characters in his life, including his Luthier uncle, Julien Fayette, who has a Bluebeard Complex and a killer wine cellar.
Several years ago, I took lessons from a violinist (now a dear friend) yet stopped due to my own worst enemy: myself. In fact, here is a photo of the rental violin I began my studies with that I named Auberon:
It had a sound that made me melt every time I played it; the notes were clear, haunting and beautiful. Alas, I had to return it to the music store where I rented it and regretted ever doing so since then.
However . . . .
I purchased a violin at an estate sale years ago, hoping to get myself back into that world, yet due to the busyness in my life, I left it sitting in a corner to accumulate dust. I then placed it in a closet, hoping to possibly sell it. Then, several months ago, while listening to some classical music on my iPhone, I felt my love for the violin return; in fact, as I later realized, it never left me but only took a back seat, knowing that sooner or later, I would come back.
And I did.
So, tonight, I took my violin to Amro Music Store to get it re-strung, cleaned up and purchased a bow and a cleaning cloth. A BIG thanks to Chris for assisting me tonight, by the way!
And, how does it look now? Well, take a look at the photo below.
Say hello to my OWN violin named . . .well, I have not named it yet, although "he" keeps telling me to call him Proust. I keep thinking I want to call him Julien, after my Luthier character in my novel.
I think this is the beginning of a BEAUTIFUL friendship . . . .