the artist is the creator of beautiful things.
sat in the middle of the room, zoran had the cello propped between his knees, a kaleidoscope of sound and colour from a rooftop bar opposite the floor-to-ceiling windows of his apartment shining onto his face and making him glow with ethereal divinity. sleeves rolled to his elbows to reveal his porcelain skin and erect the veins running along with every deft movement of his fingers over the strings, the cello came alive in his hands; creating a voice so sinfully beautiful with every rise and low of note that bruch: kol nidrei has to offer.
his movements provide a deeper sensuality to the instrument. the vibrato, glissando and crescendo all waver effortlessly with his touch and respond in a sweet melody. from the moment he had drawn the bow across the strings, there is a sense of intimacy, as if the cello is an extension of his body, an additional limb that responds to the slightest touch. the curves of the cello's body fit against zoran's own, creating a sense of physical closeness that is almost erotic. the smoothness of the wood under his fingers, the warmth of the strings vibrating against his skin, and the deep, resonant sound that fills the space all combine to create an atmosphere right out of a poem of such romance.
music, and perhaps art itself, is truly beautiful.
— moments taken from an onlooker at a bar, watching the blurs of An Angel playing something beautiful in his apartment.
