“I was at Mount Tamalpais near San Francisco hiking when a boulder came hurling down the mountainside and smashed my left hand. When I looked at my mangled bloody fingers, I had a strange reaction. 'Thank God I will never have to play again,' I said. The fact is that dedication to one's art does involve a sort of enslavement.”
The speaker reflects on a near-fatal accident, realizing that his devotion to his craft feels like a form of bondage, yet also expressing gratitude for being spared from future performance.
In simple terms: Artistic devotion can feel imprisoning yet protective.
Dedication may be both a curse and a blessing.
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