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An Enchanted Evening

An Enchanted Evening

The violin called out a sweet message setting a stage of elegance. I lifted my eyes from my conversation to the staircase as the dancers made their entrance and slowly began their descent into the space where the audience stood watching mesmerized and suddenly we were...
Mundane or Miraculous

Mundane or Miraculous

Runs. My mom called them runs. A pianist plays runs. She was expert at them. Her fingers sweeping over ivory, high and low registers, commanding the keyboard with precision and power, as if calling creation into being. I imagine there was music at creation—the richest...
The Artist’s Clock

The Artist’s Clock

Some may need a clock to tell them when to start and when to stop. But this is not the way to Art. Does tree say to its sap, “Not now? Don’t feed my tendrils bending low, against the setting sun. No more your flow? The 17th hour is here!” Or what of aloe...

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