When performing, I definitely like to try to transcend thought. Some people call it being “in the zone;” it’s this thing where I stop analyzing everything and just get really connected to the music and sink deep into the beat. Things seem to move in slow motion and I feel in that state that I can put my whole self into what I'm playing. I feel that the sneakiest elf and goblin sounds are right at my fingertips and my whole imaginary land (of Snee) is singing through me.
Sometimes I get the chills, too.

These moments are rare, but they make all the work worth it, for me.

I think getting to this magical zone is about making sure nothing separates your mind from your instrument. It takes really knowing your cello to be able to just sing through it. I guess you have to spend so much time with it and just be so comfortable playing it that it’s literally an extension of you and just a big, hairy canvas for your imagination.

I wish I knew a sure method of getting there all the time, but it can be elusive. There are things that help me, though: like singing (quietly!) along with what I’m playing connects me a little more, and so does moving my body, (which mostly means my head and face). If you see me play and I seem to be making grotesque faces and mumbling and head-banging, I'm simply trying to go deep into the music. There are a lot of examples of people who sing along with themselves to feel it better. For example, pianist Glenn Gould did it and Keith Jarrett makes disturbing noises like he’s possessed!

There’s a lot to be said also for just listening well and having a concept of space and dynamics. No matter with whom or what kind of music you’re playing, there’s always so many little microscopic things to which to react. So I like to be read. Once you start responding, if the other person is also a good listener, he responds back (within the context of the music, of course), and you start this whole conversation thing, which can be really fun. Those responses can be anything ranging from a slight change in bow placement, to suddenly changing volume, to playing a diminished scale.

The most important thing I’ve learned is the importance of originality and being you. I met the father of my mind once. He looked like a yellow walrus minus the tusks. It was very inspiring. He showed me his personal works of art and I am now not afraid to wear elf shoes or wild hats on stage because that’s part of my whole scene. It’s about being brave and breaking the mold, because in any style of anything, the best and most guaranteed special thing one can give the world is one's own personal spin on things.

Whether it’s the way you slither through a Bach suite or writing wild music from other dimensions, or playing cello in a slimy, rootsy way, it’s all the same.

Cellist Rushad Eggleston, 25, is the first student admitted to the Berklee College of Music with a full scholarship. He is a member of the Fiddlers 4, Crooked Still, and Darol Anger’s Republic of Strings, among other string ensembles.