In memory

Were I to gatherthe rarest of woods,matchsticks in multitude,and vintage amber lac,I would set to the building of that Strad,its secrets laid bare by an angel. And in its voice would be your intonations.And in its resonance, the beat of your living heart. *** Photo: Eastman Strings


I look back on this story with the shame of a fool.  It’s been some years now, and the times and ages are a little dated.  Nothing more, I suppose, than an old fool letting emotions get the best of him, and reading more into a situation than was wise. I have been told that... Continue Reading →


She colours when he looks her way, a blush so fair to see. They met upon a winter's day, but it was not to be. He saw she had the sweetest heart. She cared for him unasked, but their lifelines were too far apart, and their secret was unmasked. Those who saw them, gossip spoke,... Continue Reading →

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