in the midst of passing bravery , in the face of our own injuries, is the constant generosity of grace. It's the beauty in the tales we tell, it's the pressing on and ending well , it's the joy that comes when we give our self away ~Sara Groves
9.22.2011
9.21.2011
This is from last semester, but apparently I didn't post it. How sad. :(
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I'm taking a break from cramming for my psych test. For the record, I hate cramming. I feel like I don't do as well when I cram as apposed to when I can steadily study up to the test. Unfortunately I couldn't do that this time. My other classes and such took precedence. And then I forgot about the test. There was a tiny but powerful explosion of frustration in my brain when I remembered. It hurt.
Actually I'm double-tasking right now. I'm listening to my Mozart piece that has 7 variations. That's the theme plus 7 more parts, which each have at last two sub-sections or things I'm supposed to change on the repeat, so let's total it, shall we? *mental math, scary thought* That's 16 slightly different ditties, and soooo many different ways to mix them up, which I so often do. I am attempting to solidify the proper order in my reluctant brain, and hoping for the best. If worst comes to worst, I'll just have to assign each variation a story. "This is the one with the bouncing bunny, which comes AFTER the marching band. But marching band can't play before the babysitter trying to catch the kid on the trampoline. It just can't happen". Yes, Willem Van Nassau. I'm turning you into a children's story.
I'm trying my best to make this fun. Truth be known, I'm excited I'll only be playing this piece for 7 more weeks. My other songs (you can skip this part with no hard feelings from me....as if I'd ever know....but anyway, this is more for my record and therapeutic exercise than anything) include Brahms' Intermezzo in E Minor, Opus 119 No. 2. I love it, and it doesn't have to be memorized. It's the romantic piece on my list. It's the last piece I play at the end of the day. It's gorgeous and passionate. It's emotionally draining, but entirely worth it.
Then there's the ever-present Bach piece. I actually like mine this time. It reminds me of a favorite quote of mine:"Well, Debussy's certainly made a hit with you," Said Simon, "though I'm not sure you wouldn't outgrow him. You're the kind of child who might develop a passion for Bach.
I told him I hadn't at school. The one Bach piece I learnt made me feel I was being repeatedly hit on the head with a teaspoon. --- from I Capture the Castle
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I'm taking a break from cramming for my psych test. For the record, I hate cramming. I feel like I don't do as well when I cram as apposed to when I can steadily study up to the test. Unfortunately I couldn't do that this time. My other classes and such took precedence. And then I forgot about the test. There was a tiny but powerful explosion of frustration in my brain when I remembered. It hurt.
Actually I'm double-tasking right now. I'm listening to my Mozart piece that has 7 variations. That's the theme plus 7 more parts, which each have at last two sub-sections or things I'm supposed to change on the repeat, so let's total it, shall we? *mental math, scary thought* That's 16 slightly different ditties, and soooo many different ways to mix them up, which I so often do. I am attempting to solidify the proper order in my reluctant brain, and hoping for the best. If worst comes to worst, I'll just have to assign each variation a story. "This is the one with the bouncing bunny, which comes AFTER the marching band. But marching band can't play before the babysitter trying to catch the kid on the trampoline. It just can't happen". Yes, Willem Van Nassau. I'm turning you into a children's story.
I'm trying my best to make this fun. Truth be known, I'm excited I'll only be playing this piece for 7 more weeks. My other songs (you can skip this part with no hard feelings from me....as if I'd ever know....but anyway, this is more for my record and therapeutic exercise than anything) include Brahms' Intermezzo in E Minor, Opus 119 No. 2. I love it, and it doesn't have to be memorized. It's the romantic piece on my list. It's the last piece I play at the end of the day. It's gorgeous and passionate. It's emotionally draining, but entirely worth it.
Then there's the ever-present Bach piece. I actually like mine this time. It reminds me of a favorite quote of mine:"Well, Debussy's certainly made a hit with you," Said Simon, "though I'm not sure you wouldn't outgrow him. You're the kind of child who might develop a passion for Bach.
I told him I hadn't at school. The one Bach piece I learnt made me feel I was being repeatedly hit on the head with a teaspoon. --- from I Capture the Castle
I'm not sure I'm at the in love stage with Bach, but the relationship isn't quite as painful as it once was.
The last piece is a two-part Muczynski. The first part is really high on the piano, the second is extremely low. I'm talking lowest possible note low. On the second I'm supposed to picture the factory scene in Star Wars: Attack of the Clones. Hahaha, you've got to love a piano teacher who has her doctorate and a golden snitch on her piano.
She Sighed
About the dearth of posts: It was an awful summer, especially after that post in June. Enough said.
About the title: She Sighed is a song title and it fits the day.
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I am not in the best mood and feel like I need to reinforce some personal quality that I like about myself. Yes, really selfish, so just skip this post. It's mostly for my own therapeutic use.
I can almost always find two ways to look at a situation. Take this: I've been so stressed that yesterday I stripped my fingernails of their white-trimmed glory. This summer I really worked hard to resist damaging them, and I succeeded. Well, except for one nail here and there, but it was usually because I hit it and it broke. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless, and a victory I could see and touch and decorate.
Now it's gone, an addition to the mounting frustration threatening to cause some major change.
But there is a flip-side to this. Now that my fingernails are short, I won't be nagged by my teachers to cut them! They weren't actually getting in the way, but my viola teacher was suspicious. This is one of the times I wish I was a vocal major. They can grow their fingernails out, style their hair down, and wear whatever clothes or jewelry they like (within reason). Not violists or pianists, no sir. We can't wear large rings, anything with a substantial collar or neck, earrings, watches, bracelets, the list goes on.
Whoops. I meant to turn that into a happy paragraph. Oh well. I'm still happy my teachers won't be able to bug me. There. Now I'm thinking positively again. :)
About the title: She Sighed is a song title and it fits the day.
--------
I am not in the best mood and feel like I need to reinforce some personal quality that I like about myself. Yes, really selfish, so just skip this post. It's mostly for my own therapeutic use.
I can almost always find two ways to look at a situation. Take this: I've been so stressed that yesterday I stripped my fingernails of their white-trimmed glory. This summer I really worked hard to resist damaging them, and I succeeded. Well, except for one nail here and there, but it was usually because I hit it and it broke. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless, and a victory I could see and touch and decorate.
Now it's gone, an addition to the mounting frustration threatening to cause some major change.
But there is a flip-side to this. Now that my fingernails are short, I won't be nagged by my teachers to cut them! They weren't actually getting in the way, but my viola teacher was suspicious. This is one of the times I wish I was a vocal major. They can grow their fingernails out, style their hair down, and wear whatever clothes or jewelry they like (within reason). Not violists or pianists, no sir. We can't wear large rings, anything with a substantial collar or neck, earrings, watches, bracelets, the list goes on.
Whoops. I meant to turn that into a happy paragraph. Oh well. I'm still happy my teachers won't be able to bug me. There. Now I'm thinking positively again. :)
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