October 29, 2013

The Music Teacher. ~ Sanja Cloete Jones


She was burning. But with what? A passion for music – a love lost… Did she teach because she had nothing else or was that a passion/ a choice as well? Did I realize I knew so little about her? Was it all the questions that made her so interesting? Questions questions questions.

She wafted along the corridors at great speed. Surprising me with the fact that she would nimbly hop up onto the front porch. Not because of her great age (which was not so great at all at the time I now realize) but because she was so little.

She should have been fragile but instead she was not only intense and burning but also nimble… and, you know, most surprising of all… she was bouncy.

She looked like a pretty little sad song that had been written one rainy afternoon right before sleep stole the composer away in its sneaky, magical way. But she moved like the second movement of a full orchestral piece. The one where the music was sure of itself. Where it drew the audience in like the whirls of a tornado.

With her long hair which seemed completely definitive… and then with her short hair that was equally definitive…

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Assist Ed: Sanja Cloete-Jones/Ed:

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