‘Rapture.
As a noun meaning delight.’
Clair thought to herself as her
fingers flew over the piano keys as if she didn’t guide them.
‘Delight as a noun meaning
enjoyment, ecstasy, enchantment, contentment, joyance, relish, which leads back
to rapture.’
Since Clair discovered the piano
and the joy inherit in this instrument that could whisper and yell, sigh and
resonate, she spent her spare time trying to find the word that defined the
sublime elation that filled her when she played. She searched thesauruses, other languages,
symbols, whatever she could get her hands on. But not a single word alone described this
feeling of release and bliss that she experienced while she played. So her mind would string together all of
these words to try and express what was being experienced.
‘Bliss, as a noun meaning ecstasy,
euphoria, felicity, heaven, paradise, which leads back to rapture.’
She was playing Mozart’s piano
concerto no. 20 in D minor. It was one
of her favorites to practice on at home and loosened her up when she was ready
to compose her own works. No. 20 in D
minor was special to her. This one had
been the culmination piece of her first full concert at the age of 15 for a
local arts festival.
After her Aunt Mary introduced
Clair to the piano it had been the passion of her existence. She had played throughout middle school with
a mix of lessons with her Aunt Mary and whoever was available. When she had entered high school, Clair had
applied for a work-study program that allowed her to spend fewer hours at
school and more time practicing her instrument.
Her dedication had been noticed by several of the local musicians as
Aunt Mary had made it her job to find teachers that could operate at the level
that Clair had reached and could carry her beyond.
That had been when she had met
Edwina Powell. Edwina was a large maternal
woman with dubious ethnicity. She was
dark in coloring with her black hair and dark brown eyes. But it was her tan skin tone that made it
very hard to place her into any particular race. Edwina had been teaching
pianoforte for 15 years in the small high school in Taos New Mexico. It wasn’t until you went to her home for
private lessons did you see the fruits of a 20 year long professional classical
pianist career. She had played
everywhere, Carnegie Hall, the Kennedy Center, Sydney, Paris, Japan. Her walls were lined with accolades and world
championships.
The day Clair had met Edwina had
changed the course of her life. Before
that day, Clair had believed that she would not be able to become a
professional artist. She was told by
school counselors and most other adults that choosing to become a professional
artist was foolish and would not support her well. Everyone agreed with
exception of her Aunt Mary and her mother who had both encouraged Clair to
follow her passion and to ignore the call of material wealth in lieu of
happiness. Still Clair had been undecided until she had her first meeting with
Edwina Powell.
The first meeting had been at
Clair’s home with her mother and aunt.
Ms. Powell had walked in like a ruling queen. Her stature had been perfect, her clothing,
hair and makeup immaculate. She had asked for Aunt Mary to leave so that she
and Clair could speak privately.
The woman had instructed Clair to
sit at her piano and then circled her seemingly looking for deficiencies.
“Clair.” She stated clearly in a
Spanish accented, deep feminine voice. “That is not your full name.”
The woman waited a moment or two
and then continued. “Clair is short for something, what is your full name, as
it is written on your birth certificate.”
Clair had hesitated, hating what
she was about to say out loud. “It’s” she paused taking a long labored breath.
“Clairvoyance”, she sighed, “Clairvoyance Olivia Warren.”
The woman only stared pointedly at
Clair, “This shame’s you.” She stated. “It is empowerment, a characteristic
that is unique only to you. You should
embrace this name of yours.”
Moving to stand next to Clair she
stared pointedly at the instrument before them both. “Does this shame you as
well?”
Clair turned to her quickly denial
in her heart. “No, there’s nothing embarrassing about a piano, or playing it.”
The woman sat next to Clair at the
bench. “What is this instrument to you?”
Clair thought about it long and
hard staring at the instrument in question.
Softly she ran her fingers over a few keys and the day her Aunt Mary
introduced her to it flashed starkly in her mind. Her entire body was filled with the euphoria
that had started that day. Her Aunt’s
words ringing in her ears, ‘this does not care what color you are, it only
knows music, it only knows joy.’ With that fresh in her mind, Clair had
answered Ms. Powell with the only word that had summed it all up for her.
“Freedom.”
Ms. Powell had nodded. “You’ll do
Clairvoyance.”
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