(Inspired by a song of Suellen Primost)
Like someone who cares about nobody and nothing, I feel like sitting in the middle of a big square where the brickwork seems old and worn out. My table is small yet allows me to sit as I handle my instrument.
A long and ancient tower faces me. It seems to hear my voice yet remains unmoved. There is no sign of any activity, but I continue running the bow over the strings.
I, a soloist and a cellist, wait for the echo that is long expected. It seems the desired note is not yet reached.
I know not what my intention is; I know not why I was asked to make music. I know not about the start and know not what would be the end.
It is this setting that I was brought into; I was not asked and nor I was told anything.
It seems I sought a reply from this tower but I am not sure whether it has ever spoken.
Seen from the top, this scene might not give the clue as how intense the situation is. Music is my lot and it’s, indeed, quite a lot.