We met in a small music shop in southern Virginia, some years ago.
The woodgrain of that violin was not finished to a lustrous sheen, but more to an appearance far beyond its years. We had that in common.
Overwhelmed by its rustic appeal to the eye, we went home together. That purchase, at the time, was much more a luxury than necessity.
Not being a musician, our first session was truly a revelation. What had I done? When bow first met strings absolute horror was revealed. That beautiful chunk of wood had no more music within it than its buyer had.
If you currently subscribe or have subscribed in the past to the Gazette, then simply find your account number on your mailing label and enter it below.
Click the question mark below to see where your account ID appears on your mailing label.
If you are new to the award winning Gazette and wish to get a subscription or simply gain access to our online content then please enter your ZIP code below and continue to setup your account.
| ZIP Code: | |