Today, during a routine piano lesson, I played Mozart Piano Sonata No. 8 allegro maesotso. And it hit me, when was the last time I played (for myself or others) with the old pattern of my ways? I couldn't pin a date, but only knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, things were different now.
Music is making sense. I'm understanding things now that my ear and brain could only hope to grasp a couple of months ago. And it seems the debilitating monster of perfectionism is shrinking to nothingness. Practicing is almost a joy, never a chore. Mozart, a journey to play each time, never redundant or dry (considering no pedal is used)
Orchestra is opening up a new chapter: being a part of something new. A conductor with a genuine spirit, relying on other musicians to play well because it affects you also. And sitting back and watching the process of rehearsing a piece just once, was the most remarkable thing I've ever witnessed.
I am choosing to love music. It's never been more than a slight feeling, pulling me to learn more and push on. I've never understood why people always crow, "ITS MY PASSION" and I wondered why I never felt the same. Now I understand. At least for me, I needed to rewire everything and learn total discipline in order to fall completely in love with music and enjoy all the facets.
Photo: piano lessons in Tempe. It's been part of my life for over 7 years, and is about to continue until December. Then it will dissolve into a different Tempe for the next 4 years...University drive instead of southern ave ;) big difference.
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