Thursday, July 20, 2006
canon in d
This is my favorite piece to play on the piano. That is, when I still played the piano. I've kind of shed that skin when I went into college. Yes, I was a classically trained pianist. I started studying when I was in second grade. It's not an inborn ability, I think. It's more of an acquired skill. Maybe because I had long, slender fingers. I guess it stopped there. I can't compose. I can't listen to a song and instantly know how to play it. There needs to be a sheet I could read through, and now, really really slowly read through.
At one point, I could play this piece with my eyes closed. I loved doing that when I was sad or stressed. I actually miss doing that. Now the piano is rotting away in our living room. I don't even have the music memorized anymore.
I listen to this on Eliot. Sort of a way to relive my love for this composition. And it saddens me that I seem to have wasted years and years of studying this instrument. I distinctly recall what my teacher said when I told her that I was quitting - "do you know how many piano players would kill to have your hands?"
Makes me think about it. And wonder again.
What am I really doing?
dezphaire strapped in @ 9:46 AM
Sometimes bored. Most of the time oddly alive. Phobic of butterflies. Creatively suppressed. Hungry for coffee and shoes. This is my subconscious talking... at times interrupted by my reality.
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