Just me and the harp

...alone in the church after the dress rehearsal for the Celtic Concert last Friday night. Thinking long, quiet, mysterious thoughts. I'm still thinking them, during this week off after the concert.

Deep, mysterious thoughts don't just happen
when I'm sitting behind the harp.

Thinking about the music.
About how it happens.
How I come up with the ideas for concerts,
arrangements, sounds, set lists.
Despite what's happening in my life or the world.

The harp and I somehow figure out what to do.
Sometimes I just shut myself off
and let the sound come through.

In the shadows, it's like the harp becomes a living creature.
Spine and nerves and frame
come to life. And sing.

We worked out many things, the harp and I, that night before the concert. Drawing in strength in preparation for the performance to come. Concentrating on building my energy, saving it. Releasing worry, fear, sadness. Letting the music calm me, reassure me that everything would be fine.

And the night of the concert, it was fine. It was so much more than fine. At one moment while I played, I remember feeling like I was somehow outside myself, watching myself do this, give myself over to the music, give the music over to the audience.

It was a beautiful concert.