Have you ever been moved to tears from a single artistic source?

I ask this because I was seeing an episode of The L Word, and saw a scene where one of the character sees a photograph from an artist. She is so moved by the artwork, that tears flow from her eyes, and she is speechless for several minutes, which seemed an eternity, for the short-attention-spanned viewers (i.e. me). At first, it seemed queer (and not in the colloquial sense) but I got to thinking, was I ever that moved by art?

The answer is, of course, I have.

There was this guy in high school, on whom I had a lovely crush. He was a senior, and I was a freshman, and it was never in the stars for us. Of course, he hardly took notice of me, but that's beside the point. The first time I actually collapsed into the abyss of puppy love was when I saw him, or rather, heard him play the piano. We shared an orchestra class, in which we were violinists. I first started the high school orchestra when I was in the 8th grade -- I was specially invited by the teacher, who taught both the middle school and high school orchestra classes (the high school was directly across the street from the middle school).

I knew no one there -- all the high schoolers were well acquainted with each other, even though it was a fairly large bunch, of probably 70-80 members. Just violinists accounted for at least 25 bodies. I sat waaaay in the back, unnoticed. During the break hour, I was just looking around by myself, when I saw him, on the piano, playing something by Chopin. I believe it was the Fantasie Impromptu, but I can't be sure. I was just so moved -- it was like little rays of heaven scattered around the piano. He was great. It was the most beautiful music I had ever heard. Could Chopin himself played the piece better? I can't say.

When I finally entered high school, I practiced very hard to reach the first violinists' section, where he sat, and eventually, we became stand partners (we shared a music stand, thereby sitting adjacent to each other). He was definitely a better pianist than a violinist, but he was proficient on both. At one of the concerts, he played Chopin's Revolutionary Etude on the piano as a solo (he was the best pianist in the whole school, hands down). That concert, thankfully, was recorded on tape, to be sold as part of the fundraiser to keep the music program open. I have two copies of that tape -- one is opened, and I listen to it frequently, even until this day, and the other is still in its original shrink-wrapping. I am preserving it, just in case. I can still see him, hear him play that piece, and if you know the piece, you understand. It's an extremely moving piece, and when it ended, I couldn't even pick my jaw off the floor, because I was so in awe. He eventually left for college that year, was crowned valedictorian, and went off to UC Berkeley. This probably explains why I wanted to go to UC Berkeley badly and why my favorite composer is Chopin.

I think these days it is harder for people to get this kind of exhiliarating sensation, mostly because of TV, and technology. Movies are great, but it's so easy to cry at the movies, because they are overwhelming your senses. Say the main character dies, as did in Titanic. First, a fairly good looking guy is dead. The images are sad, the music is depressing, Kate Winslet is crying, it's freakin' cold and dark. You see and hear the movie tell you, "this is the sad part, get the waterworks ready and keep a tissue handy."

I've choked up with tears frequently with music. As a violinist, I played a lot of music. When I play a piece, the notes become words. Each measures become phrases, each section is a sentence. Each movement is like a chapter; there is a story. Some composers incorporate a thrilling story to be unveiled by the musician. I am gifted and blessed, because I can feel that. I've gotten to be a pretty good player, and had all sorts of music teachers pulling my leg to be a music major, but that ability, that almost innate ability is one gift that I've utilized through the years.

Some composers are not too well-known by the lay-people. Aaron Copland is one. I know somebody's going to read this, and think that Copland is such a great sensation and of course, everyone must know him, but sadly, not many do. Call it ignorance or lacking class, but the mass knows not the gift that Copland had exploded onto the world. His Applachian Springs is one piece I have to recommend. I know what it feels like to greet the sunrise on the Applachia mountains, because of that music. It's fullfilling in so many ways, and a good piece would do that. It is engaging -- although all you are doing is listening to the music, all your senses are engaged. The notes awaken your body to smell the woods, feel the breeze and the warmth of the sunlight.

I am sure that artistic works do that as well. I've caught myself drooling to the Guernica once. There is a lot to see on that piece, and although I've never taken an art cource or read much about the piece, the notion of war comes to mind. Obviously it is more than just a collage of meaningless symbols. There is a sculpture, I believe it is from the Renaissance -- it is of Hades, as he kidnaps Persephone to his underworld. That sculpture is stunning. So life-like and yet so still and white. As I have said, I am not trained in the arts (in the sense of paintings, sculptures, etc.) well enough to comment in details -- my senses are raw, and it is hard to collect it into words.

When was the last time you were so enthused and immersed in something that you feel passionate about? It doesn't have to be something so formidable, as classical music or the Guernica, but maybe the words of the Dalai Lama, or Hemingway, Poetry, or just whatevers. My cat is so exquisite that although she may not move me to tears, she fills my heart with such mushi-ness (oh, damn my lack of vocabulary! My descriptions are so impotent -- so inadequate.). The sunshine that floods my window and bed at about 10:30AM is divine. To bask in that, is like a giant orgasm. I don't know how to describe it, but this is something that I find that many people lack. It doesn't have to be grand, it could be diurnal. But to have it, is to live life as it was meant to be lived -- even with all the words, I wouldn't be able to describe it. If you were blessed with this gift -- I'll just say this: Someone up there must really adore you.