Muri, a Muramatsu DS Model

There was a buzz at my fingertips, a vibration upon my lips, as I controlled wind. Tones from a long silver tube dug into me, a resonation. For some unknown reason, I knew these tones could be felt by others. I played in every conceivable venue. Without looking directly into their eyes, I could feel their vibrations touching back the notes I produced. I could feel who they were, their joy and pain and the myriad of feeling in between. I know that sounds strange.

I spent 4 decades as a professional flutist. It was magical and it was a hell of a lot of work. I sacrificed friends, lovers, and even life, buried by the spell the instrument had cast upon me. Maybe you can hear some echoes in what you read and see in this blog as I break the spell. 



8 Comments on “About

  1. Hello, Elan, what a lovely discovery-someone who leads with language, edgy language, pure language, language for its own sake. Language is the only tool we have to formulate ideas–to think. We can do many things without it. We can feel, work, sweat, water our plants, rock our grandchildren, but we cannot think without it. And then there’s the sound, the music, most of it is meant to be read aloud. Aside from the visual arts, it is the way we describe what we see. I look forward to reading your blog.


  2. Pingback: Mystery Blogger Award – Crooked Creek

  3. Thanks so much. I guess butchering could be considered an art form. You know, spare ribs, pot roast, fish fillet. Lol. Good luck with slicing the fat off your “hads”.


  4. Well, you certainly have a poet’s soul. I had to butcher the English language to make my poems rhyme, so I’m a bit envious. Looking forward to future posts.


  5. I at times feel as if my words are so ancient no one understands what I am saying, including myself. But I always remind myself, I can not be the only one in the world who talks, writes, or communicates as I do. How else would I have learned to do that?


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