Twice a week

Twice a week, I go home by the same subway station. It happens to be a particularly busy one, so there's always a performer on the platform (one of the best things about living in this city is that it realizes that support for the arts is important). Some nights, it's a man with a chinese violin, other nights it's an opera singer, and on others it's a drummer. My personal favorite is the violinist.

There's something incredible about the way a good violinist plays. Perhaps it's because I used to play myself so I understand how difficult it is to make something sound so beautiful while making it look effortless. Whatever it is, whenever it's the violinist's night to play, I can't help myself, I stare. Mesmerized.

He's good. Really good. Every movement is elegant, spare and efficient -- just enough to get out the right vibrato or trill but nothing more. There's no waste of energy, no unnecessary flourishes, no unneeded space between the fingers from one note to another or too much air or bounce between the horsehair bow and sheep gut strings. Everything movement and note is consistent, yet filled with feeling that varies depending on the music being played.

Then, there's the violin music itself. I think all instruments have their own beauty (yes, even bagpipes), but next to the piano, the violin is the most versatile of strings. A wide range of music can come from the same tiny thing -- the latest barn stomping square dance to exotic hungarian folk music (think gypsy) to jazz to classics (think Bach, Stravinsky, Mozart, etc). Without violins, you're missing a story line.

In may ways, the violin reminds me of the challenges that draw me to windsurfing. The best windsurfers don't fight the wind. They intuitively know how to move with the wind and use it to their advantage. Great windsurfers have an ability for making the most difficult moves seem easy and effortless. Blink, and it's easy to miss the tiny tiny weight shift or hand movement that makes for an awesome trick.

As for myself, I have the finesse of a clunky elephant on a 2" x 4". Windsurfing is a pastime that forces me to slow down, to be and take in my surroundings -- the waves, the wind, the sun, my bearings. I know I'm doing something wrong when simply hoisting my sail becomes difficult, and I have to fight or struggle to make my move. I sail at my best when I remember not to overthink or force things into place, but to relax and go with it.

Anyway, it'll be another few weeks before I see my violin friend in the subway again, but I look forward to hearing his violin's story and putting my few dollars in his case.