Violin's been kind to me as well

I was happy to ascertain that in spite of the moldy ooky gunk in our other unfortunate residence, the darling fiddle suffered, so far no damage. Though the strings are rather false and there is, I believe, a wolf in the lower strings, which I believe was not there before

No matter. At one boring point of the yard sale odyssey, I decided to walk to the end of the property with a large YARD SALE!! sign and the violin, in the hopes that the spectacle of someone hashing out the Kreutzer Sonata in front of a YARD SALE!! sign would somehow interest people enough to stop (Brockett is a busy enough street after all). Guess I should have worn a funny hat as well.

But it was great! The Kreutzer, which has been obsessing me for a few weeks, due to other infirm contexts no doubt, finally had a say. Though it's inevitable; the violin is an unwieldy bitch compared to the piano. The piano offers little resistance, and even the most mediocre, pale, pasty performance is somehow tolerable. Not so with the violin. Nothing short of a stellar virtuosic performance a la Midori, Kennedy, Perlman (insert favorite violocelebrity here) sounds even tolerable to a poor listeners ears - the neighboring dogs' barks attest to this. But all in all, it's fun, and I love the damned thing - and if I can ever get over my physical disability vis a vis the violin (IE, not having practiced compulsively for 6 hours a day since I was 3) I may be able to feel it under my skin more often. IE, the process of reaching such homeostasis with the playing element that you feel simultaneously that you have utter dominion over the wires and wood, yet sense its pulsating, melodic properties singing through you as if these same woods and wires were connected to your central nervous system. The ears, nervous system, muscles, circulatory system all participate.