A new form takes shape as ribbons of wood shavings curl away and fall unheeded to the workshop floor. The maker slides his hands over the smooth texture of the wood, cradling his creation--a masterpiece in the making. He expertly shapes the scroll, joins the seams, attaches the fingerboard, aligns the bridge, and fits the pegs.
Nearly complete, he sets the instrument on his bench and moves the tools aside. Then he dips his pen and with a flourish, signs the fragment of parchment. For centuries, the name has denoted the value. Names like Stradivari and Guarneri have made their creations priceless. Yet this name has claimed the creation for the highest worth. With precision, he affixes the title to the belly of the instrument, and it reads--I AM.
The work is perfect in its creation, owned by it's maker's signature, its beauty enhanced by time. As the instrument is passed form the hands of the maker to the hand of the master, the song begins. The bow touches the strings, and the music erupts as the instrument conforms to the master's command. Every string responds to the bow's urging. The notes are rich, vibrating in a prayer of submission, praise and exaltation. Heaven welcomes the sound.