She cried and laughed. She sang and spoke. She called for herself and sobbed uncontrollably. She creaked like an old greased wagon, and in a soft whisper she hummed a children's lullaby .... She fiercely argued with a neighbor - to a squeal, to a wheeze, to tears, and then wearily fell silent, giving way for a while to smooth guitar busting ... Honestly, to me, as a man who, at the age of six, his parents took to the music school "for violin" (because “the child”, according to the teacher, “has perfect musical ear and wonderful hands”), it would never have crossed my mind that this instrument could trigger all the emotions I experienced that night and the associations that arose. Read More
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