The strings remain silent. However might I coax them, they resist. They do not want me to be a part of their melody. I know I am not giving homage enough..enough respect, nor enough dedication. I am aware of their power, their hold. I just want to coax them in my way..Beseechingly, just by looking at them, just by feeling them. Why cant my fingers fly over them of my own? Why cant the melody in my heart and mind and soul, that permeates me so thoroughy..seep out and speak to them? What will they loose if they allow them to make them their way of expression? Its an unspoken agony.Of wanting a master, a magician..