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How is the body held at ease, a sprawl, the largeness of the self spreading? Are there too many things missed? too many times walking past the cello, the cello master walking away in his Asianness, cellos tucked in his house, his only daughter (or is she his favorite pupil) accompanying him in this early chilly before-dawn. How does the tune start up the decision to bend over the body of his cello to bolster himself up by what he can cause to sound, the walk chilly, the skin chilling beyond reason, beyond safety, probably: a musician ought not to experience such extremes, such loveliness.