oops

So maybe taking most of Thanksgiving break off from practicing wasn't the best idea?


At least it's highly improbable that my orchestra audition tomorrow can go any worse than my lesson today...


(view from the window of the bedroom where I was staying)

anticipation

I've never been able to cope well with suspense or waiting. I get anxious and jumpy. My stomach gets upset, my throat gets sore. I start pacing, I talk faster than normal, I'm unable to concentrate.

Sometimes practicing helps me calm down. The familiarity of taking my violin out of the case, rosining the bow, tuning, playing scales allows me to relax; having something to focus on, fix my attention to, can snap me out of the jittery state.

Sometimes I'm unable to focus on even that. Sometimes it isn't an option, like when I'm watching a movie. I can only watch movies with a friend narrating - I can't handle suspense without knowing what's going to happen, (and I have problems dealing with major emotional turmoil).

Maybe everyone deals with this.

But for now, the taxi that takes me to the airport is almost here, and my flight to Big City of Lights leaves in a few hours.


(Re: my theory final - the part I was worrying about ended up not being on there. I got an A+)

bleh

I've had a post kicking around in my head in response to the Ray Comfort Origin of Species handout deal for a while, since Wednesday at least.

I'm too tired and stressed to write it.

I have a theory final tomorrow, which I don't feel prepared for. I know that I'm going to miss one section of eartraining completely - so much for my A+ in the class - and I'm worried that I'm going to make a stupid mistake or forget one of my idioms, stuff that I should know.

I have a lesson tomorrow. I won't have time to warm up because I'll be studying for my theory final. Not to mention a quartet performance.

I began today euphoric. Last night was amazing to a degree that makes me feel somewhat guilty; mood-alteration is far too tempting to repeat any time in the near future. I had a great practice session, was relaxed, happy, glad to be alive.

Now I'm just stressed.

my life, in haiku

Orchestra again?
Good music, but so tired.
I just want to sleep.

Loud people: shut up.
I don't want to hear you skype
with boyfriend, roommate.

My theory class: oy.
Eartraining final Monday,
I'm so not ready.

Ray Comfort's intro
to Origin of Species:
Simply laughable.

firsts

My freshman year of high school, I went away from home for the first time, for the four days of all-state orchestra. I played in my first full orchestra, playing Shostakovich 5 and Bernstein's Overture to Candide (second violin, inside), sat next to the first (and, so far, only) boy on whom I've had a serious crush. We said maybe two words to each other the first three days (he offered me a gummy bear, I accepted); the last day, he asked me for my email and phone number.

A year later, we met again, at all-state, this time playing I think it was Bartok Concerto for Orchestra. We spent the entire time together, and, a few days later, he became my first boyfriend. A few months after that, when he went off to college, I went off to summer camp, and we realized we'd never see each other again, we broke up.

This weekend, I went to a dance / party at the university that my school is kind-of-sort-of-maybe a part of. It wasn't very good, but a guy asked me to dance; I accepted. Eventually, we ended up making out, my first kiss.

Now he's calling me. I don't know what to do; he's not really my type and I feel embarrassed about the whole situation.

I'm playing Shostakovich 5 and Bernstein's Overture to Candide in the same program in my school's orchestra. I'm second violin, inside part.

FUBAR

My body is a mess.

Both forearms and wrists are rather fragile, and have been wavering on the border between tendonitis and not-tendonitis since I was thirteen; they were fine for some years, but once I started practicing more when I reached college, they went kaplooie. Fortunately, they un-kaplooied after I took a few weeks easy.

My lower back is crooked, thanks to my hip. It's genetic - my mother and grandmother were both born with the same crooked right hip as I have.

I had a nosebleed this morning.

My violin hickey is inflamed, and hurts when anything comes into contact with it.

I haven't gotten enough sleep for a week or two, and so am headache-y and stomach ache-y and have a sore throat. Not to mention lack of ability to concentrate.

Because of the aforementioned hickey, I've been holding my violin slightly differently for the past few days. Now my shoulder starts to hurt whenever I practice more than two hours in one session.

My abs are sore, too.


At least I have my health.


(yeah, it's not actually that bad, just having a good whinge)

slip away across the universe

A teacher with whom I studied violin for six weeks two summers ago died last night. She had a truly inspirational career as a performer and teacher, was one of the first female section leaders of a major US orchestra, and, above all, was one of the most optimistic, generous, open, loving people I've ever known. I was working on the Tchaikovsky violin concerto that summer, mostly the second and third movements, and she taught me how to play it musically, how to get across the emotions that the music is begging to release. She helped me with my college applications, writing recommendations for me and helping me figure out my options.

What I remember most, though, is how she seemed to exude joy with everything she did, how, by example, she made you realize what a wonderful thing it was to be alive and playing music. Her smile, too, was contagious - and I remember her telling a story about her car breaking down or something along those lines and concluding with the thought that a smile can be one of one's most useful tools. Watching her made me want to be a better person.


Ihr Leben ließ die Kunst zu sterben
In unverrückter Übung sehn;
Unmöglich konnt es denn geschehn,
Sich vor dem Tode zu entfärben.
- Bach Cantata BWV 198

Napolean

I grew up with Daniel Pinkwater's books, from Tooth-gnasher Superflash to the Fat Camp Commandos to Alan Mendelsohn to Uncle Boris's dogs. They were, and still are, wacky, bizarre, off-beat, awesome. His noncomformist characters are probably why I never felt odd having different interests from my peers, why I was never intimidated by the popular crowd, why I went out of my way to antagonize said popular crowd...

The other day I went into the Miniature Bootshaped-Country section of Northern Midwest City with some friends, heading to a cafe for coffee (them) and pastries (me). Among the chocolate eclairs and canolis and tiramisu and brownies was, I was delighted to see, a shelf with Napoleans, their creamy custard slightly oozing out of the sides, the top glazed with a shell of chocolate-patterned fondant.

One common motif of Pinkwater's books is food. Specifically, yummy, unhealthy food. In one of his Snarkout Boys books, at least a chapter is dedicated to the characters eating a Napolean. It is described as out of this world, ectasy in pastry form, heaven on Earth. I had no idea what they were; I imagined them as some mythical beast, cream-filled and beautiful, existing only in a diner in New Jersey. They are, in fact, cream-filled and beautiful, but can indeed be found outside Hoboken.

What they are, also, is messy. When I tried to eat it with a fork, the filling squirted out the sides; when I gave up on table manners and bit into it, my mouth was covered in chocolate. The pastry was dry and flaky; the custard was light and airy; the glaze was delicious, but almost too pretty to eat.

Daniel Pinkwater, you have good taste in pastry.

print "Hello, World!\n";

When I decided to start a blog, I had forty minutes remaining until I had to leave for class. There are now around five. Some of the time was spent eating chocolate; some was spent making a new email account not connected with me, some of it was spent looking at a video of barnacles mating, which was strangely beautiful. I think it was all the waving fringe.

Today, too, is gorgeous: crisp, clear bright sky, sun shining, trees all golden and orange. This is my first real fall, though it may be getting toward winter now: I grew up in the land of the subtropics, where summer stretches from April to November and winter rarely reaches 0 (C).

----

It's now several hours later; I went to class and then met up with a friend for coffee and cake. As I was walking, I saw a house sparrow in the grass and a robin in a tree. The cake was very good, and very rich; we split a piece, but neither of us could finish it.

I need to practice more, both violin and piano, but I don't know if I'm going to do that today - I want to go to a recital later. I'm having scheduling problems, too - one of the classes I want to take next semester ends at the same time that orchestra begins; I think it should be fine, but I need to talk to the orchestra manager about it.

The post times for this are off. I will change it manually.

Tonight, I go to bed early.