You would think, after not writing for so long that I would have gobs to say, wouldn’t you? Though I have thought often of writing, I have lacked having something to say. Something worth spending time, currently in short supply, on anyway.
If you are reading this I regret to inform you that I still have nothing to say, but I do happen to have three glorious hours before I have to be somewhere and I have already practiced my violin, so here I am.
The violin and I are BFF’s now. I can listen to a simple song and sound it out on the violin, though I still think it’s easier to cheat and look at the sheet music.
“Burn that thing,” my instructor said, when she assigned me to sound out a song and I replied, “You know I have the music, right?”
It came with the cd she assigned me to buy and listen to. It’s like having the answers in the back of the book and willpower has never been my strong point.
“It will become a crutch,” she finished, and so I TRY to not look at the music and sound it out without peeking and it turns out it’s not that hard. (But seriously, the music is RIGHT THERE and time is valuable!)
I know, because I can hear her playing in the lesson before me, that I have caught up in lessons to the student in front of me, the only other adult student my instructor has, who started six months before me. She’s probably better at not looking at the music!
I can now play twinkle twinkle with my eyes closed, but I am still a long time away from being able to take the cheater tapes off the fingerboard that tell me where to put my fingers to get the note I want.
I am a really good typist, even though I cheated in typing class in high school and looked at the keys. When email became a thing at work, I typed fast, but I looked. After enough time I didn’t have to look anymore, and now I can keep typing the thought in my head while looking at someone in the doorway and listening to their question.
I’m counting on the same thing to happen with my fingers and my violin strings, eventually.
I tweeted about how my instructor informed me I would have a recital. It was while we were playing together, me on the violin and her on the piano. I had messed up (a common theme when I am nervous, I play best alone in my office with the door closed and heat vent shut) and she was instructing me not to stop when that happens, just try to pick back up at where the piano is.
“When you’re having a recital and you mess up I’m not going to stop and start again, so you’ll need to learn how to pick back up with me.”
I took my violin off my shoulder and picked my jaw up off the floor.
“YES, you WILL have a recital,” she said.
We played it again and I messed it up again and I didn’t say anything and joined back in with the right notes at the right time. She nodded her approval. We didn’t mention the recital again, THANK GOD.
I mean, aside from the CRIPPLING FRIGHT of being on stage in front of an audience, I am one of two adult students. OMG it will be me and bunch of kids who probably play better than me! And THEN my instructor is training me for screw ups, like it’s my destiny. Honestly, I love my violin lessons but if push comes to shove…
I know, I know- face your fears and “You Can Do It!” and all that. I really appreciate the support, it means a lot to me and made me feel happy and loved. (I’m a Words of Affirmation) But playing at that recital would not get me any closer to any dream of mine. I just wanted to be able to play, for me, because my heart is somehow connected to the fiddle. When I hear it, it pulls me in close. I’m not going to hit it big as a violinist, and anyway I’m too busy to go on tour. I see no reason to unnecessarily torture myself!
You can be afraid of something and be totally FINE with that. I never want to downhill ski because I might die, I never want to swim with sharks because I am a tasty snack, I never want to watch a scary movie because they give me nightmares. I have no plans to conquer these fears either!
While I was doing the shopping online earlier today, J was watching a show about Evel Knievel. About his rise to fame, his daredevil persona. How he felt “compelled” to do these things he did, even though the cost of failure could be death. How he would say “the point of life is not just to exist, but to live.”
He also made a CRAPLOAD of money to conquer his fears.
I decided, after hearing that story, that if someone pays me a million dollars (I could put your logo on the side of my violin?), it will be worth my while to pursue the conquering of The Recital Fear. Otherwise, NO DEAL.
Have a nice weekend everyone,
Nic
NickNackPaddyWhack-ed 