Look Ma, No Hands!

I play the piano in a symphony orchestra. I would tell you the name, but it would get me into trouble, so we better keep it a secret. It’s a great job! I spend the weekdays with a group of very talented people and, on the Sunday concert, I show the best of myself to the audience, which usually responds with an enthusiastic ovation. As for the Saturdays, that’s another story. Saturdays are mine. They’re what I call the “Look ma, no hands!” time. Let me explain.

I have to protect my hands, since they are my instrument. You may think that the piano is my instrument, but you’d be wrong. Without the magic of my hands, the piano is just a big, heavy, loud box. It is I who provides the magic. 

So, I can’t carry my groceries, I can’t fix a tire, even if I know how to do it, I can’t play any sport in which you use your hands, which leaves baseball, basketball, and volleyball out of the picture. To say it simply, there are literally dozens of things I can’t do because I have to protect my hands.

However, I’ve had a taste for bondage since I was a teenager. Just as I find music making artistic, I think there is a true aesthetic value in getting yourself tied up and submitting to the sensory experience which only ropes can provide. 

That’s why, every Saturday, Robert comes to my apartment and ties me up, carefully leaving the hands untouched. Robert is a rigger I’ve known for years, so I can trust him with my body… except the hands. Shibari helps me to leave behind whatever happened during the weekend and focus on the concert of the next day. It also gives me a period of silence, which is something very necessary before making music.

Look Ma, no hands!

This is my Shibari story.