Swept away.

David Lanz calls the piano the Dark Horse. It's so frequently a shadow in the background. But unless you've galloped through it's trills and glissandos, you can't know the thrill of the ride on a Dark Horse. I am a pianist. Non-practicing, seeing as how I don't have a piano at present. But inside I am always longing for the feel of the keys beneath the tips of my fingers. Something happens to me when I really play. The more challenging the piece, the more I've put into it, the more lost I find myself in another place. The music wraps me up and separates me somehow. It sweeps me away and holds me. Nothing can touch me. It's just the music and Christine. And it is beautiful and I am beautiful. And God sees me there as the person I wish I were. It's the way I can finally pray sincerely and he knows exactly what's in my heart and my mind beyond words and beyond religion.
I used to give someone a song when it was their birthday or at Christmas as their gift. In my early college days, some friends and I would find a piano room somewhere on campus and I would play for hours and they would sit with me and talk softly. Any emotions that were mixed up inside the chambers of my soul escaped into the music and peace found its way in. Much of the time my fingers start moving independently of my mind; it just flows. I find a fulfillment through music that cannot and will not be satisfied in any other way.
And I'm hungry.