Silhouetted

1.6 Every Quarter Random Beat: Raya, Anjeli, Me, and Violin

VIOLIN

For those who don't understand the violin, it's possible to just shrug when asked what a violin is. Though a violin is the work that I think is the greatest. Just imagine, if broken violin consists of seventy pieces, all of which are located between the frame and the complementary pieces.

The main parts are: rersonance box and handlebar.

The complementary pieces are: bridge, caliber, fasteners, wire supports, chin and strings. Except as mentioned, these last few pieces, the others are all made of fir, maple, ebony, forest roses, pears, and linden. It's not the ordinary wood you play next to the house. The wood was chosen. Bended, tapped, vibrated before forming.

Perhaps since the selection of puin material has been so thorough, because violin talk means the highest standard of speech, as well as raw materials and manufacturing methods. Violins are never too simple. It was as if there had to be something special about his shape and voice.

Let's open the resonance box, we'll see this box is arranged from two covers: the top or the harmonious lid of the pear wood and the bottom of the maple. Combined between the two with ribs also from maple wood. On the top lid is made an F-shaped resonance hole which is one of the characteristics of helping to re-recognize the style of the great maestros.

Look, there are even traces of maestros there.

Sometimes I wonder for myself, are those maestros who want to continue to be recognized? Or were it his admirers who chose to remember the maestros in this way?

Both may be true, and they may not.

Then we will see also at a distance of a few millimeters from the edges of the two coverings, inserted flat stems with the number of three pieces that are useful to strengthen the edges. On the inside side of the harmony lid to the left of the elongated direction there is a harmony rod or bracelet, a long wood that serves to support the cover and flatten the vibration.

Ah, the crutch is interesting for me when I see this crutch.

Even musical instruments seteliti violin still requires supports in its design. How far is that support needed? And sometimes I ask, for those of us who are clearly the most perfect works ever, who is the sustainer? A lady? Or a man?

ANJELIC

He never felt he needed a man. At least not very necessary. Because from the beginning he only knew his mother. What is a world without men?

Will no babies be born?

Not really

He has watched the movie Jurrasic Park, the series to how much he also does not remember (Why are humans bothered by the sequel? Some even seem forced!). In the movie isn't all the dinosaurs in the park female? But eventually they can also lay eggs because there are some dinosaurs that mutate into males.

Once the thought was expressed to his friend, and he was debated all-out.

“For they still need males, therefore there is a mutated dinosaur!” his friend half shouted. Dina, flicking her shoulder-length hair. Glowered. His nose, which was always red, looked redder. There's some sweat in there.

But his eyes glimpsed still glanced at Dina. Then shook slowly.

“They are females, originally they are females. They mutate to be males but originally they are females.”

Dina wrinkled. He is not a typical person who can argue, usually when he finds people who disagree, he tends to avoid and then tomorrow only finds refutation. Now he is faced with his countryman who always talks kindly to everyone, but suddenly becomes paranoid in men.

He said the world doesn't need men!

I

I looked towards him. He was sitting and staring at the glass wall, or was he staring at the rain too?

For a moment I thought about him. Who her? I knew him but I forgot again. She's lady. Not too high. Pale orange veil. Black eyes. Sardonic. Yellow skin. Deep dimples on the left cheek.

I may know him, I may remember later. I promise that I remember later I'll tell you how we got acquainted. But now I have to tell stories while trying to dig up memories.

That's what's the problem. I have too much to go through in a life that is fast. And because too soon we can forget to remember the name of someone. But we'll find it easier to remember his face.

And I still want to tell her, she still seems to want to listen.

We sat side by side looking at the rain that had not yet subsided. Suppose I could count the number of grains that fell, maybe my time was never wasted. If there is no work and rain, rather than pensive alone I can simply count the details that pass in front of the eyes.

Now I see a gray cloud moving. I slowly looked for the sun. Of course, the sun does not exist. Let alone when it rains like this, even during ordinary weather, in a city full of tall buildings like this it is very difficult to see the sun. All that is visible from a sun is the brightness of the light, and the buildings become like shifted because of it.

Now I'm used to just looking at that light. Maybe all the residents of this city are used to it, so I am a newcomer to get used to it.

I come from a city where it rains every day. I miss the rain so much. In the city, the sun does not always look full, but it is not because of blocked buildings, but blocked trees and hilltops.

There are many people who always go and come, but anyone who has ever stopped there will always miss the rain drops. Someone always has memories of him.

I remember knowing a woman who told me about her past that she easily remembered when it rained. But I just remember her woman, which woman? What is sitting with me now?

It could be, but why hasn't he said anything since? We see the same rain.