Booklet - Strunz! Enterprises

That would be realized through my ax swings...I prayed as I swung my chrome plated ax, light flashes reflecting from thechrome on the ax head with each swing....Everything was going as planned as I had composed the concert...As I had for days visualized each ax swing and heard the sound that wouldaccompany the impact of each swing...I lost track of time... I became one with the voice of the piano.... I remembersomeone shouting take a rest, you need the rest.....I stopped and spent two or three minutes touching the pieces scattered everywhere....I edged close to the piano, it’s harp was visible through its shattered body, Ipressed my ear to to the shattered cast iron harp frame and listened...I have more to say it whispered, much more to say......Some fifteen minutes went by when the piano shrieked at me through it’s splinteringplywoodonce neatly stretched under the piano harp’s now tangle of ax sheared-cutstrings,There were a few minutes of soft resonances and a whisper, I have said all I wantto say...Keep my harp to remember me by, and burn the rest of me on a pyre that myspirit may rise to meet my voice...Flash bulbs and questions brought my attention back to the stairwell and thepiano I had destroyed,as I took a step piano pieces tumbled down the steps into the space the audiencestood in...The Tate Museum curators stood there some what dazed...One of them said I have never seen anyone become so involved in their art...There were more comments and questions.... An hour passed I went upstairs andhad a glass of wine and dunked a slice of bread into it and ate itthe way some people do with a donut and coffee...Thank you for having me share, like a beautiful flat stone, a perfect oval shape