1o1. salaam and shalom.


As my stupidhormoneself whines, I forget to speak of the beauty inherent in musical bows, overtones and guitar, clear-voiced women who cannot sing without dancing, percussionists with “Acme Wind-Makers”, fiddle players of incredible skill, and a saxophone that dances and mourns within heartbeats. The Guy Mendilow band played for our school, and now all the freaking tenor section does is practice overtone singing caused small dancing feet and new wonder in a high school that can be, as all teenagers, cynical and moody.

Possibly my favorite part, beyond the seamless harmonies and the sounds never before imagined (how limited I was!) was the pleasure of watching them. The energy they brought to the stage was what drove their music into the mind long after they left, from a Hebrew-dance song, to an anthem for peace.

The female singer was always in motion, never stopping her feet or hands. As her voice spiraled up and down, her hands would follow, her entire body swaying with the music, appearing as natural as breath and as smooth as the most well-practiced routine. She was a dancer and a singer, a joy to watch as both.

Although each one was incredible, the image of her, taunt with a note, fluid with a beat- this stayed in my mind. I wish everyone could embody music so effortlessly.


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