PAN XIAOHUI lives in Singapore. She tends to babble and is fond of inane details.


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r.i.p. Niccolò Paganini

Years ago, I stalked Paganini, “who played like the devil”.
I read different accounts of him. I looked at fake pictures of him. I listened to his stuff. He made animal sounds on the violin. He had a sexy life and had rotting gums. I felt sad for the voyages his body had to make. But I like the spooky tales. Posthumous violin strains late at night.
Most of all, I remember reading that, before a concert, he used to lie in bed, for hours, terribly exhausted and he would just snooze. I can picture him staring at the ceiling, unblinkingly, for hours.
No mention of practising anywhere.
I so wanted to be him.