Author @ Blaise Kielar

Blaise Kielar received Honorable Mention in the 2022 Alex Albright Creative Nonfiction Prize for an excerpt from his memoir in progress, "Be Heard: The Quiet Kid Who Started the World’s Loudest Violin Shop." He opened Chapel Hill’s first violin shop in 1978 and retired from a music retail career by transitioning Electric Violin Shop into the first worker-owned co-op music store in the United States. He plays jazz violin and clarinet in several bands and leads the Bulltown Strutters, Durham’s community New Orleans brass band.

Journey

The A Train grinds to a stop and doors gasp open. On the platform the acrid brakes assault my nose. Holding my breath, I leap up the 59th Street stairs. Ah, sky. From Columbus Circle I can gaze at Central Park, place myself on a path free to meander and imagine I can smell the […]

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AH, THE IRISH! (1979-80)

Not being just a violin shop allowed Hillmusic to retail other interesting things, from jaw harps to LP’s. We had a record player beside my bow rehairing bench. I didn’t even have to stand up to change a record – I’d just rotate on my workbench stool. There were so many sounds and styles to […]

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SIDEWALKS ARE NEVER SILENT

The human memory, like a raven, is attracted to singularly bright objects, those that shine in the mind. Months later I remember tasty food, every dish a gumbo of spice and sauce, and cheap but strong cocktails, even outside of Happy Hour (starts at noon in some bars), and of course, the jazz. Three or […]

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OLD TIME

The new Hillmusic space was right in the heart of downtown Chapel Hill. Franklin Street marked the northern boundary of the University of North Carolina campus, and was packed with stores and places to eat, and where it crossed Columbia Street was the functional crossroads of town and gown. And our space was a half […]

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DANIEL BOONE COMPLEX, 1978

Worst campsite ever – tent pitched on gravel that laughed at our sleeping bag pads, open trash barrels stinking in the oppressive August heat, swarms of yellow jackets, and a picnic table without benches – too high for folding chairs. Who the hell wants to stand up to eat at a campground?! It was not […]

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TO GATHER

TO GATHER Penland Glassblowing Studio, May 2018 First, gather myself, let the fears and distractions fall away, so when my hands touch the rod, all I feel is steel. Check the glow of the heated end. Steps to the furnace are sure and relaxed. Brief smile and eye contact with my door buddy, then square […]

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ONE EAGLE

Scree . . . whoosh . . . just as I look out my window, a bald eagle swoops and dives, talons grasping a fish from our neighborhood lake. A rare enough event, but the chills came because I was on the phone with my late Dad’s income tax preparer, who is sad to hear […]

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THE HOLE WHERE THE RED WAS

Two women harangued me on my colorful attire – did I really stand out that much in my vest with some metallic gold threads, and my bolo tie with gold bling? It was not my intention to outshine my bandmates – I just like to wear colors and sparkly stuff. Seemed perfect for the last […]

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LOBSTER TAIL

My young brain saw the resemblance – the mud-colored crawfish skirting the shallows of Chester Creek and the bright red lobster tails on our dinner table. “Forget it,” I said, though it was clear Mom and Dad enjoyed all steps of the ritual. First broil on the same cookie sheet that birthed hundreds of Christmas […]

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SANDS OF TRUTH

No hourglass, more like a windswept dune, blazing sun and footing that shifts just before I step. Seemed solid, now I fall, again, and look back at the hollow traces of my scrambling, as if to read my mistake, to learn something, anything, from these bruises. Heat shimmers at the horizon tempt me to change […]

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