tension.



someone told me once how many pounds of pressure a piano endures to keep itself together. it's amazing actually, that this instrument does not combust upon itself in a pile on my wood floor.

perhaps at times it's the pulling of one part against another that makes possible the beauty i love. it's the two ends holding this string that let the vibrations buzz. the sound escape.

it feels, on days like today, that i am the piano itself more than the one who plays.
i am many parts held in tension.
i am one side and another.
i mostly just hold the ends tight. and feel the vibration.
may there be finally, a song.