the player and his notations

He stood still almost like a bust made of stone, save, his hands ...
They moved all the time...fingers those of the hands...
They move to make the hands move...on the fretboard...on the woodwork that often found photoshop editors' joy-when the editors turned the wooden frame into a woman's back...so beautifully poised...hourglass! perfect!
A model...almost!
So he played his fingers on the model...played them nimble, soft...
Sometimes played singly on a particular string, repetitively, jarring the senses of both his own and the audience vibrantly cool...

His plectrum
 moved
     moved
          moved...
then
              moved back
moved back further ...
   
       moved away
providing gaps...
With his taps on the board...
Minors mingle haply with Majors...
So merrily like couples dancing...
Waltz...
  F
    o
o
    t-
       t
  a
p...