My Feet Are An Endpin?

Marina Hasselberg — Photograph Alex Waterhouse-Hayward

I am a cello — Lawren — June 21, 2012

My brain is a finely tuned
A string Plucking and picking itself out of tune
And though out of tune itself Molds and bends to be in tune
Relative to others.

My skin like a mahogany fingerboard
Is constantly pressed
And squeezed and slapped — Abused by my own hand.

My mouth and tongue are f-holes
Through which my inner vibrations
Are released into the air.

My heart is a bridge
Keeping my thoughts
In their rightful place
But also connecting
My body and mind.
My bones make up my sound-post
Holding me together
And providing the structure
Necessary to speak.

My feet are an endpin
Grounding me
And connecting me
To my surroundings.

Occasionally a bow comes along
Forcing me to do or say
The opposite of my desires
Moving me
And playing me
Like an instrument,
A toy.

I am a cello
Here to say what I want
How I want.
Though my strings need occasional tuning.

Into Bunny Watson. I am a Vancouver-based magazine photographer/writer. I have a popular daily blog which can be found at:

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