![](http://i.imgur.com/MnVP6Eh.png" "source: imgur.com")
Post by Zoe Wallerstein-Smythe on Mar 9, 2014 10:51:32 GMT -6
There was almost no translating music to still film. No matter how beautiful the music, no matter how driven the artist, you just couldn't make that transfer, at least not easily. Zoe had tried a few times, and she did have a few very good photographs of musicians in the middle of their art. They often looked enthralled, wrapped in the music. But she still wished that she could find some way of wrapping the sounds they produced and shove them into the frame. Things would look so much more hauntingly beautiful that way. Then again, Zoe supposed that film, moving pictures that is, did that, so she shouldn't be too upset.
All this fluttered through Zoe's head as she passed the classrooms. She'd heard a piano, or more accurately, she heard someone playing a piano, sending the semi-sweet music into the world. Zoe wasn't skilled enough a critic to really judge the music. She just knew that to her ears, it sounded sweet, perhaps a little dark, most of what she looked for in music, actually. So Zoe walked the halls, the click of her shoes against the hard floor adding a new beat to the piano, though again, that was something that only Zoe could really hear.
Then she'd found the classroom, and the musician. She was young, or at least young-ish, with her hair pulled back from her face. Slim, but still slightly curvy, not unlike Zoe herself, though the photograph thought herself to be more androgynous than the other. Still, a fitting model, especially as focused as she was on the piece. Zoe's hands went to her camera and she brought it up, taking several pictures. The photographer found herself drawn into the room, slowly walking around the edge, wanting to get several pictures.
After a bit though, Zoe stopped taking the photographs and just sort of stared at the girl, letting the beauty of the scene overwhelm her for a few instants. She closed her eyes, unaware of what the girl did besides the music, just letting the sounds rush over her, taking her someplace else. Maybe if she just stood here quietly, she'd get to hear more. She just had to hope that the girl didn't turn around or hear her or something.
All this fluttered through Zoe's head as she passed the classrooms. She'd heard a piano, or more accurately, she heard someone playing a piano, sending the semi-sweet music into the world. Zoe wasn't skilled enough a critic to really judge the music. She just knew that to her ears, it sounded sweet, perhaps a little dark, most of what she looked for in music, actually. So Zoe walked the halls, the click of her shoes against the hard floor adding a new beat to the piano, though again, that was something that only Zoe could really hear.
Then she'd found the classroom, and the musician. She was young, or at least young-ish, with her hair pulled back from her face. Slim, but still slightly curvy, not unlike Zoe herself, though the photograph thought herself to be more androgynous than the other. Still, a fitting model, especially as focused as she was on the piece. Zoe's hands went to her camera and she brought it up, taking several pictures. The photographer found herself drawn into the room, slowly walking around the edge, wanting to get several pictures.
After a bit though, Zoe stopped taking the photographs and just sort of stared at the girl, letting the beauty of the scene overwhelm her for a few instants. She closed her eyes, unaware of what the girl did besides the music, just letting the sounds rush over her, taking her someplace else. Maybe if she just stood here quietly, she'd get to hear more. She just had to hope that the girl didn't turn around or hear her or something.
