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o Resonance Carolyn Ogburn & Margo Solod This is what I work towards: resonance of fourteen strings. Seven for the bow, seven more in sympathetic vibration.
I am devastated my one moment, resonating quicker than understanding. This moment must be happening
daily, hourly, every second somewhere – each moment touches another, rippling in all directions, the famous wing
of the butterfly setting off monsoons in the south. A stock market crashes, a dog catches a stick and you come back
from the Amoco with cigarettes and will not meet my eye. I can still see vibration
shimmering around you, but I listen in vain for the note.
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