“One good thing about music: when it hits you, you feel no pain”– Bob Marley
Dear secret cellist hiding in my street: you need to practice more.
Your notes sound off-tune and you cannot play a recognisable song decently. The force behind your strokes is unbalanced and they often sound weak, as if you miss the willpower to show your musical instrument who’s in charge. The melodies you play are too light and easily hide behind the Summer winds or go astray in the Autumn skies, fleeing upwards, eager to escape their earthbound destiny.
And their destiny, I am sure, is to make my heart beat with happiness.
Hearing you play makes me want to close my eyes in silent rejoice, letting your music fill my soul with an instant happiness and a gratefulness for being under your spell.
The colours of your music find their way into my head and heart, pushing out every bad memory of the day, week or even the year. For when I hear you practice, I lose track of my burdens and my only desire is to enjoy!
To me, it doesn’t matter you restart countless times in order to get it right. It doesn’t bother me that the music notes coming my way are muffled through numerous walls or are impurified by traffic noise in the background. The sweet sound of your cello makes up for everything. Even if it’s merely a hint, a glimmer I catch of it, it leaves me longing for more.
The first time I heard you practice was on a lovely Summer day and I can’t descrive how delighted I was when I first recognised the deep, warm sounds of your cello. You made my day perfect and I was quick enough to discard my book, lean back and close my eyes, thinking only how lucky I was for having someone who would undoubtedly play my favourite instrument often and make my heart sing equally frequently.
However, the second time I heard you practice was only a few days ago. Through my bathroom wall the faint remainders of the notes you must have been playing a few doors down waltzed in. I don’t even remember what I was doing, because the moment my ears picked up on your exercise, that’s all that mattered. Pure joy.
It’s the simplest things in life that cause the most happiness and you working to grow your talent is one of my happy flaws, I am ready to admit.
So yes, your notes are unbalanced and your strokes sound weak. Your melodies easily escape into thin air, but they are never quick enough to escape my ears. And even if you have a long, long road ahead of you of becoming better and better still, I like what I hear. I like how you make me feel.
Unknowingly, you make me a happier person. And there is always room for more happiness in my life. Therefore, I appeal to you:
Dear secret cellist hiding in my street: you need to practice more.
