Message-ID: <alpine.NEB.2.00.1208312228070.11565@panix3.panix.com>
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
To: Cyb <cybermind@listserv.wvu.edu>, Wryting-L <WRYTING-L@listserv.wvu.edu>
Subject: Channeling the Dead, Sarinda
Date: Fri, 31 Aug 2012 22:30:12 -0400 (EDT)
Channeling the Dead, Sarinda http://lounge.espdisk.com/archives/909 (best listening) http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/deathch1.mp3 http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/deathch2.mp3 I feel I'm channeling the dead; playing the sarinda, from Afghanistan, is like no other instrument; the music I play isn't from me, is like no other; I hear the voices of the dead in the deeper strings, the chorus; I hear the cries and lamentations of the living in the upper strings - and I mean this literally, the instrument controls me, it's haunted, spirits are living in it, spirits are speaking through me, it hadn't been played in years, perhaps decades, they were waiting for me, they are coming for me, I've come for them, I've come to play their grief and their sorrow, something takes me, takes the movement of the bow, the sway of the instrument, it may be centuries old, there is grief residing in it, anguish within it, when I play the sarinda, I don't know who I am, something or someone else, is moving the bow I am in tears playing this instrument, trembling - it's tearing me apart - I've been having twitches again - something neurological - I've been to the doctor before - have to go again - the music helps me along - cries out to me - something - (Earlier) Channeling Little Song, Sarinda http://lounge.espdisk.com/archives/909 (best listening) http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/channel3.mp3