Spring 2019: May Issue 4

Aloha Vulcans,

The orchestra begins tuning. The oboe gives the note; the strings tune to it, a squawk emerges from the brass and trumpets, the percussionists wield their mallets, sticks, and brushes as the pianist edges toward the edge of their bench and everything goes quiet. The conductor approaches.

A flick of the wrist, a motion of the hand, and a noise hits the inner ear. The sound is full, synchronized, undeniable. The conductor flails as the orchestra creates something beautiful. Their song melts the air around them, breaking the barriers between feeling and being.

The bow drawing across the violin, the touch of the wood on the cheek, and the rumbling of the drum as the entire symphony plays, is locked in time, contained in the Akashic record, among all events, thoughts, words, emotions, and intent ever to have occurred in the past, present, or future.

The song fades and a round of applause shakes the earth. The curtain and the year draw to a close. We have made something beautiful, from start to finish. A song. A story. A family.

It has been an honor to conduct this orchestra, to stand among the artists, and to witness the impact of their work.

A man with many names,
Peter Holden Chao

"I thought it was 'If a body catch a body,'" I said. "Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around — nobody big, I mean — except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff — I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be. I know it's crazy.”

- J.D. Salinger


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