The Violinist

My Descriptive Essay

On Center Stage

It's so quiet up here in the mountains; I believe today truly has been a good day to come up. The sun is warm on my face, and the fresh mountain air is filling my lungs as I lay back on the already warm grass. I come up here often, needing to escape from the city and to give my raging thoughts a chance to quiet down. The mountain does much to calm me with its own majestic beauty, but today I've brought along my favorite classical CD of Vivaldi. After putting in this CD, almost instantly I can feel the sweet sounds of the violin music working its magic and calming me. From the first note struck by the violinist, I find myself carried into a waiting chair that is sitting at center stage inside a great concert hall.

Through many years of practice, I have become the orchestras' best violin player. Yet, I realize and respect the many others that have practiced just as hard and so too are deserving of the number one spot. Whenever we play before a crowd, the harmony is so great between my violin and the orchestra that the ending effect is finding myself with a racing heart and breathless while the last sound fades away.

We are all sitting in our chairs on the stage, dressed in our best black formal attire, waiting to do a special concert for a well-known recording company. Not only does being recorded add to my nervousness, but we are also doing this in front of a live audience. So as I take a deep breath, I mentally reassure myself that I can do this. I just need to give it my best shot no matter what.

The audience begins to quiet down, and I can tell we are about to begin. Gently picking up my violin from around its neck and from where it sits resting inside a metal floor stand, I bring it to my outstretched left arm. Positioning it under my chin, I find the fit is so good that it feels like I was born to have it there. The long horsehair bow hangs softly in my right hand, ready to do as I bid it. "All ready to go" I mentally tell myself.

A small nod from the conductor, who has now taken up his thin metal baton and outstretched his arms in a stance of seriousness, diverts my attention away from the metal sound equipment around us as well as from the attentive eyes of the audience. We have rehearsed over and over again what we are going to be playing today, so I am safe to close my eyes and just let the violin go on its own magical, musical journey.

Closing my eyes, I let the music come within me, feeling each note as if it had its own racing heartbeat keeping in time with the tempo. The harmony is so beautiful, it's like soft flowing water and has the deepest calming effect on me. No longer am I just playing inside a concert hall, but I imagine I am playing up in the mountains where the sound is bouncing off the rocks and echoing to the valley below. I have to play my best, for who knows who may be hearing it.

I'm so lost in thought that the sudden sound of clashing cymbals shatters my dream. Slowly I open my eyes and find myself back in the concert hall. Not only have my ears been assaulted by the sound of the clashing cymbals, but also I hear the sound of clapping. The clapping is coming from around me and getting louder until it all sounds like thunder. Little did I know that we all had been playing for well over two hours, nor did I realize I had played my very best that day when I closed my eyes and went on my own musical journey.

Back in my quiet spot on the mountain, a small raindrop splashes my forehead and slowly I awaken to find the sun gone and dark clouds taking its place. Silently I protest having to leave this calm spot, but I know I don't want to get rained on. However, before I get up to leave, I can't shake the feeling that I just had the most realistic dream ever. I was a great violinist in an orchestra, playing my heart out for a crowd. I can still hear the music and the thunderous applause. Looking down I check to see if my CD player is still on and to see if it may be the reason I can still hear the music. But no, the CD has long since stopped playing.

Slowly I get up and begin walking back down to my car; along the way I unknowingly begin to smile. The violinist inside me is smiling, for she is happy that her years of practice have proven how very much she can shine. As I reach my car, I can't help but glance back at the trail leading up to my quiet spot and the realness of the dream I had there. Funny how a little CD can transport you to another place and time and make it all feel real.