Thursday April 3, 2008

“Flicking Candle Light” –Liu Tian Hua on the er-hu

While outside on The Patio taking a drag this morning, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Glancing upward, I saw a plane languidly cutting through the clusters of fluffy white clouds that dotted a powdery blue sky. In its wake, rapier straight, trailed a jet stream, following obediently to wherever its maker was bound.

As a kid, I used to rush outside whenever I heard the roar of turbofan thrust, to stand, mouth agape, gawking at the jets rushing overhead, off to the far ends of the earth. As an older, and little wiser kid, I still envy those planes, with their well-defined flight plans, headed clearly from A to B.


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