I think it's getting to me: being totally isolated in a piano practice room for hours every day. Maybe that's why I can't get the embellishments in my Haydn Sonata right. Maybe it's all in my head. Maybe that's why it's so hard to motivate myself, to focus, to practice.
The weather these past two days has been amazing. I love it when the temperature starts to change. It will still be a while until the season settles in and remains, but I love the hints that winter is coming. Still, it has been harder to enjoy it for some reason. I feel somewhat apathetic about...everything. The weather, piano, homework...
I also have yet to find those life-long friends everyone promises you before you get to college. "Oh, the friends you make in the next four years are the best friends you'll ever have! They're the frinds you'll keep for the rest of your life." It takes time. I know it does. The upper classmen say so. My high school friends say so. It's just mildly frustrating, waiting around. I know they're there somewhere, and I want to find them now! I feel like I'm wasting time that I could be spending with important people that I haven't met yet. Or maybe I've met them and just didn't recognize them yet.
Also, much of the exploration is over now. Auburn is becoming familiar. I'm finding a routine, and therefore I'm losing much of the passion. I've fallen into a rut, a muddy rut, and I'm getting bogged down.
I'll make it. But today everything feels impossible.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Pros and Cons
So this week has been mildly stressful. I had my first real college test today (two more to come before the week ends). I've been studying a lot and practicing piano a lot. My arms feel wimpy and noodley. I'm going to ask my piano professor about that tomorrow. I'm not sure if it's a sign that I'm building muscle or if I'm doing something wrong...
However, one of the other piano students decided to decorate the practice room. We discovered two lamps and some Christmas lights wrapping around the wall. According to rumor, a rug and window treatments are on their way. I like to think of the nice pianos as self-esteem pianos. For some reason, it's very hard to feel good about yourself while playing in a cramped room on a twangy set of keys. However, it's very easy to feel artistic when doodling on a polished baby grand, the reflection of your hands and the Christmas lights dancing across it's smooth, midnight black surface. It's easy to forgot about tests and stress and homesickness and mild loneliness. It's easy to lose yourself in the music.
The past two nights, I have run into a family of three relaxing on Auburn's campus in the twilight of the day. Their little girl dances freely around while the parents sit on a park bench and watch. She is fascinated by her shadow. She twirls and leaps and laughs. When she finishes, they say "bravo!" and "again!" She complies every time.
I think sometimes people get so caught up in deadlines, in rush hour, in to-do-lists and responsibilities, that they forget to find joy in life. To sit down and rest. To dedicate a moment to reverence and awe, to beauty and hope. We forget to let little girls dance.
So, in the midst of the chaos and worries, I want to remember to dance.
However, one of the other piano students decided to decorate the practice room. We discovered two lamps and some Christmas lights wrapping around the wall. According to rumor, a rug and window treatments are on their way. I like to think of the nice pianos as self-esteem pianos. For some reason, it's very hard to feel good about yourself while playing in a cramped room on a twangy set of keys. However, it's very easy to feel artistic when doodling on a polished baby grand, the reflection of your hands and the Christmas lights dancing across it's smooth, midnight black surface. It's easy to forgot about tests and stress and homesickness and mild loneliness. It's easy to lose yourself in the music.
The past two nights, I have run into a family of three relaxing on Auburn's campus in the twilight of the day. Their little girl dances freely around while the parents sit on a park bench and watch. She is fascinated by her shadow. She twirls and leaps and laughs. When she finishes, they say "bravo!" and "again!" She complies every time.
I think sometimes people get so caught up in deadlines, in rush hour, in to-do-lists and responsibilities, that they forget to find joy in life. To sit down and rest. To dedicate a moment to reverence and awe, to beauty and hope. We forget to let little girls dance.
So, in the midst of the chaos and worries, I want to remember to dance.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Shades of Fantastic
So guess where I am blogging from? My dining room table, back home!
That's right, I returned to good ole sunny Florida for my three-day weekend. I'm leaving early this afternoon to venture back to Auburn, but for the time being I'm home. It's good to be back.
I thought I had adjusted to the twin bed in my dorm room, but now that I've slept in my queen-sized bed three nights in a row, I've realized how much I missed it. I think I made up for the three weeks of limited sleeping space by rolling over constantly. I kept waking up to realize I'd traveled significantly.
So how does it feel to be back? It feels as though I never left. That's one amazing thing about family. No matter where I go, or how long I'm gone, there will always be a place for me.
So my mom and I are currently making M$M cookies. Half of them are coming with me, because nothing says home like freshly baked cookies. And nothing makes fast friends like a huge batch of cookies and a generous hand. (We're strategic bakers.)
That's right, I returned to good ole sunny Florida for my three-day weekend. I'm leaving early this afternoon to venture back to Auburn, but for the time being I'm home. It's good to be back.
I thought I had adjusted to the twin bed in my dorm room, but now that I've slept in my queen-sized bed three nights in a row, I've realized how much I missed it. I think I made up for the three weeks of limited sleeping space by rolling over constantly. I kept waking up to realize I'd traveled significantly.
So how does it feel to be back? It feels as though I never left. That's one amazing thing about family. No matter where I go, or how long I'm gone, there will always be a place for me.
So my mom and I are currently making M$M cookies. Half of them are coming with me, because nothing says home like freshly baked cookies. And nothing makes fast friends like a huge batch of cookies and a generous hand. (We're strategic bakers.)
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Grand Adventures
Along with a new atmosphere and new studies, I've been pursuing new experiences as well. I church hopped the past three weeks in search of a church home. I've been unusually outgoing. Well, outgoing relative to my normal introverted self. I've become involved in a weekly gathering where international students mingle and practice their English with other Auburn students. I've misunderstood many words and butchered many names, but...I try.
I have a thing for sushi. When I used to work in a grocery store, sushi would come through the line a lot and I always thought it smelled so good! It took me a while to muster the courage to try it for myself but since then, I've been a fan of sushi. I'm not hardcore enough to use chopsticks, though. So the other day, I treated myself to some sushi. I convinced myself to ignore the world 'eel' written across the package and bought it anyway. However, I have determined that eel is not my favorite. It's a little too chewy for me. I ate it all, though, and I'd probably eat it again if it was available to me. However, I definitely won't be buying it for myself any time soon.
I also discovered a design flaw in the baby grand piano I was practicing on this week. The lid that covers the keys when the piano is not in use is curved. So if, say, you dropped a pencil while the lid was open, and it happened to get caught between the lid and the piano, it would slide down quite out of reach. And if, hypothetically, you were to close the lid the slightest in the hopes that your hand would be able to fit, the pencil would continue to slide, always out of reach, until it rolled right into the piano. My hand is not small enough to fit there, I have discovered. Coat hangers will not coax the pencil out. As hard as you strike a key, it will not catapult the pencil out into your waiting grasp. However, if you happen upon another piano major who is a lot stronger than you, he might know how to remove the lid entirely so you may retrieve your pencil. And if you ask him how he did that, he might tell you it was magic. And then confess that he's dropped pencils before.
I have a thing for sushi. When I used to work in a grocery store, sushi would come through the line a lot and I always thought it smelled so good! It took me a while to muster the courage to try it for myself but since then, I've been a fan of sushi. I'm not hardcore enough to use chopsticks, though. So the other day, I treated myself to some sushi. I convinced myself to ignore the world 'eel' written across the package and bought it anyway. However, I have determined that eel is not my favorite. It's a little too chewy for me. I ate it all, though, and I'd probably eat it again if it was available to me. However, I definitely won't be buying it for myself any time soon.
I also discovered a design flaw in the baby grand piano I was practicing on this week. The lid that covers the keys when the piano is not in use is curved. So if, say, you dropped a pencil while the lid was open, and it happened to get caught between the lid and the piano, it would slide down quite out of reach. And if, hypothetically, you were to close the lid the slightest in the hopes that your hand would be able to fit, the pencil would continue to slide, always out of reach, until it rolled right into the piano. My hand is not small enough to fit there, I have discovered. Coat hangers will not coax the pencil out. As hard as you strike a key, it will not catapult the pencil out into your waiting grasp. However, if you happen upon another piano major who is a lot stronger than you, he might know how to remove the lid entirely so you may retrieve your pencil. And if you ask him how he did that, he might tell you it was magic. And then confess that he's dropped pencils before.
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