An article posted on JEZEBEL sent me skipping down (yet another) Tori Amos path, merrily listening to my entire Tori collection on shuffle for
48 hours while working and humming along to the imagery. I have been fortunate
enough to see the goddess perform live twice now, and both times she brought me
to tears. Even when I didn’t want to be moved, she reached into my heart with
her haunting voice and grabbed a hold of something in what can only be
described as a long, motherly hug.
I’m mad about her and don’t hide the fact.
Seriously, the way this woman plays the piano!
Just as Oscar Wilde and Richmal Crompton helped shape my sense
of humor, and Lewis Carroll helped shape my sense of whimsy, I have come to realize
that Tori is my spiritual mother and helped shaped the way I see the world and
think about things for the better part of 20 years.
I love what she has to say about feminism in this interview:
"Well look, if you're
a real feminist, in truth then you're a humanist because it can't be about the
matriarchy that just supplants the patriarchy. It has to be about humanity and
equality for all. And that to me is the seed of spiritual feminism. Now feminism
came out of a place with the suffragettes and issues that completely and
absolutely needed to be addressed at that time and still need to be addressed
in certain parts of the world.
For me now, in the 21st
century in 2014, in America and in the West, it's very much about human rights.
Women's rights naturally are very important to me and violence against women
and those types of things, of course is something that I'm aware of, but also,
there are a lot of men who are feminists that I know that are very concerned
about women's rights, and that needs to be acknowledged. There are a lot of men
in my life that are feminists and I'd like to say that, as well, I'm concerned
that the men in my life are being treated fairly and with compassion. And to me
that is where feminism inspires me—it goes beyond gender. It has to. For us to
be whole and for us to really have learned and for us to be giving back to the
world, we have to consider everyone's equality and humanity."
I was bitten by the travel bug long before I ever got the chance to leave South Africa thanks to my Grandmother's stories, and books. I was convinced that the world out there was fascinating, amazing, wonderful and full of crazy weirdness that would make me feel thrilled to be alive! I became obsessed with books about Japan and fell in love with all the imagery I conjured up in my mind through those written words. My Granny, (thought not the biggest fan of Japan for British reasons...) told me that I would have to, one day, go there to fulfil the love I developed for it. And she was so right!
I finally got to travel after school, to America, to the UK, to Switzerland and Italy and Thailand and other parts of asia, but my very favourite country that I have had the pleasure of visiting thus far is Japan. I finally got there with Husband in 2010. We spent the holiday traveling, skiing, seeing the snow monkeys and visiting loads of Buhdist temples and traditional gardens.
But Tokyo at night was something special. Having never experienced anything quite like it before, it stood out in my mind as the highlight of the trip (ok, that and the snow monkeys)
After seeing an article on Twitter entitled 'Tokyo Night Walk' which brought back a flood of wonderful memories, I was inspired to make my own little photo-blog of my Tokyo Nights.
Having arrived after hours, the first thing we did was find someone to make us a late late dinner of sushi. This was easier said than done, and the only place we found was in the hotel. The chef was very obliging and treated us like royalty - after all, we were his only customers. We weren't able to order different kinds of sushi like we do here at home, but rather were told 'Oh, sushi? You want sushi? You get sushi.' - and boy did we get sushi!
Not that we knew what half the stuff on the plate was. One or two pieces resembled recognisable items, but the rest was fear in a fishy form! Raw sea urchin anyone? Slimy lumpy something grey? An eel? We smiled and grinned through it all, but learnt our lesson: Don't eat sushi in Japan. Our chef was wonderful though. He gave me a tea mug as a gift to take home too because I loved it so much :)
I found a KAWAI (Japanese brand) baby grand piano in glass that played by itself! I have an upright KAWAI at home, but mine is a manual, not an automatic.
The city lights in down town Tokyo kept me mesmerised and even though I couldn't understand most of the signs, I enjoyed watching the colours light up and flash intermittently. If I was a bug or some kind of flying insect, lets face it, I'd be toast.
Hello Kitty, who I know to be the Ruler of Japan (general knowledge according to Gilmore Girls) had many shrines in her honour. And being part kitty myself, I had to stop and worship.
Some images appear on the walls or store windows as you pass them by, and follow you enticing you to shop! It was futuristically ghostly and I LOVED it.
They had vending machines for everything under the sun, and a few things you would never expect too! (I have heard horror stories of used ladies undies...) This was a cake and ice-cream street stand. Too bad I was full after the sushi debacle.
And there was plastic food lining tables outside many restaurant to show you what they offered inside. Plastic. But looked SO GOOD I could have eaten it all right there and then! The plastic food industry is booming in Japan, apparently, and to buy even the smallest piece for display is unbelievably pricy. I think we'll stick with real food after all. (though I strongly considered getting plastic banana's for our kitchen - a little Japanese art-du-fruitbowl)
Dessert was rather interesting too, ranging from this gluey green stuff (which was quite good as it turns out) to jellied teenager 'boobs'. WTF right?
After giving a few other delicacies a try (or not!) I found the food I loved the most: Ramen. Good old ramen. Pork broth ramen specifically. Mmmmmmm - just thinking about it makes my mouth water!
But we eventually embraced our western innards and found ourselves a Mc-Knock-off. Delish.
We also found the New York Bar, made famous by the movie 'Lost in Translation', and treated ourselves to duck-fried chips, drinks, live music and an incredible view. The city is truly spectacular from above!
I found a few words I did understand - all too well - Dior and Gucci and Louis Vuitton, Oh My!
There was a Japanese showing of our own movie 'Invictus' at one of their local movie houses - we never went to see it but I would have loved to watch it in translation. Sigh - what a missed opportunity.
I found a smokey side alley which of course I had to go down. Because it was a smoky side alley. (which is basically 'Come Hither' in kitty speak)
And some more Ramen joints. (This may or may not be a picture of a ramen restaurant, but I like the piggy mascot
)
We found a night market where I bought my now favourite silk gown with pink cherry blossom all over it. Most of the stalls were filled to the brim with useless trinkets, cheap plastic nothings that lit up or sang or whirred - and had it not been for Husbands steely guidance and a time limit, I could have been there all night!
Pity he didn't let me buy the Hello Kitty alarm clock. Sad :(
Japan, Tokyo, you and I shall meet again. I am sure of it! This romance is far from over.
*Please note that none of what I talk
about in this blog post would be possible if Husband was not in a position to
support both of us, and willing to give me the freedom and space to chase my
dreams for now. I am fully aware that someone has to still take care of the
responsibilities and bills of real life, and Husband has taken over that role
for both of us for this chapter whilst I follow my bliss. I love you Hubby! And
one day, some how, some way, I will return the favour. Thank you for believing
in me and putting your money where your mouth is!*
Three years
ago I embarked on a sabbatical of sorts. I left a very corporate world and
replaced my office days with something that most would describe as being a
full-time house-wife, or even lady-of-leisure.
I embraced this title for a time, but only because 'Full-time Dream-Catcher' is
not exactly something you can claim at dinner parties when strangers inevitably
ask you: 'So? What do you do?' without looking a bit like a freak. And that is
the sad state of our society.
It has been
quite an adventure, with highs and lows, victories and disappointments. I found
that even though I was no longer 'working' that I still didn't have enough
hours in the day to do all the things I wanted to do. I discovered that all
those things we always say we want to do but never have the time, don't
magically happen when time is allocated - but rather take a whole lot of hard
work and dedication. But the thing that I was most surprised (and hurt) to
find, was the firing-squad of judgment, resentment and down-right nastiness I
encountered from many peers, friends and even some family.
'What do you
do all day?' 'I would be so bored if I was to stay at home all day!' 'Don't you
think it's time to go back to work?' are the kind of comments I have had to bat
on a regular basis. For the most part I have ignored, joked about or argued my
way through these unpleasant encounters, but a recent, more frank version of
these comments (from a well-meaning source) got me thinking - why is it that
some people have such a hard time dealing with my current life choices?
Lets say
that you started dating a new guy. He makes you happy - happier than you have
ever been. He is sweet, kind, generous, funny, smart, and adores you. He is
completely dedicated to you. He listens, lets you choose the movie (most of the
time) and even finds your strange obsession with purple spandex endearing. Now
lets say I am your friend, your confidant, someone who has been around in your
single years. But from the day you met Mr. Perfect, all I can ever say to you
is 'Oh my gosh, you have to get out of this relationship immediately! He is
poor. He isn't going anywhere in his career. He lives in a rented apartment on
the cheap side of town and can't even afford a decent cup of coffee. He lives
with his mommy! He drives a beat-up old second hand rust bucket and he doesn't
have an iota of dress-sense. He uses 'literally' incorrectly and makes spelling
errors on his Facebook status updates. He listens to Nickleback, for goodness
sake, dump him!'
Would you
say that I am a good friend? Would you say that my interests lie in wanting
what is actually best for you, or what some of society perceives as being best
for you? If I were to suggest that you should date the rich maverick over the
poor guy any day of the week, that would make me shallow, right? Shouldn’t he
be valued for more than just his monetary status? Would you consider me a b**** if I only thought of your boyfriend as someone you could get a five carat diamond
out of?
That's
right. I would be a bad friend, at the very least.
Well, this
is what I am encountering in my life right now. I have chosen the 'poor guy',
if you will. An artistic, non-money-making sabbatical over a previously
thriving career. To 'stay at home'. But I believe there is more to life than
salaries. There is more to life than 9 to 5. And yet my dream-chasing has been
seen as everything from lazy to lost, and I have come to the conclusion that
those people in my life who perceive it that way are not wanting the best for
me. Perception is a funny thing - because it can be just as easily based on
blind ignorance as on personal experience. I suppose that is the difference
between perception and misconception.
I have
decided to map out a few answers to the top 10 general misconceptions I face:
1. "You don't 'work'."
Define
'work'. Are you saying that the only work worth doing is one where you get a
monthly salary? Where you drive your car or take public transport to a
building somewhere away from your home and spend an average of 8 hours 5 days a
week doing things that make profits for a company that gives you a pat on the
back and a pension when all's said and done? Don't get me wrong - growing up
through this work force was an important, crucial part of my own personal
development, and there may very well come a time where I have to return to the
ranks. I do also find the work that so many do to be admirable. The street
sweeper who provides for his family by beautifying our city, picking up the
trash discarded by strangers; the lawyer who fights her battles and pays for
her own Prada; the nail technician who puts her baby brother through school
with her earnings; the husband who sees his wife yearning to create a new path
for herself, and takes over all monetary responsibilities for a time so that
she can do so; the high-school teacher and the sales person and the doctor and
the domestic and the accountant and the entertainer and the researcher alike.
But they are not the only ones working for a living. The Oxford Dictionary
defines 'work' as being an 'activity
involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a result'. So
yes, I work.
2. "What do you do all day? I
would be bored if I had to stay at home all day long."
Being 'bored'
is probably the saddest, most revealing aspect any human can portray. The world
is an enchanting place. Perhaps not everyone sees it, but I wake up each
morning and embrace my universe like a child prancing through vast fields with
a butterfly net (after my cup of coffee, that is). My husband jokes that I have
been going through a second childhood, and in a way that is true. Any parent
will know that children need to be fed not only with physical food, but in
mind, body and spirit.
-The first
thing I did after quitting my job was to enroll myself at a piano studio - I
was adamant that I wanted to be classically trained in music, something I
didn't have the opportunity to do as a child, and wanted to be able to one day
teach piano too. I hadn’t yet worked out the specifics, I didn’t have a
piano-teaching 'business model' mapped and ready to show any doubting onlooker
- I just knew I had to start getting my brain and fingers moving. The learning
curve was intense, but I have completed 5 grades of music training thus far,
complete with taking the exams and playing mini-performances, and am continuing
in my training. I was taken on by my piano teacher as a 'student teacher' a
year ago, continue to sub for her when she can't take a class, and have built
up my own profile of pre-grade students, under her guidance, that I teach on a
weekly basis. (a highly rewarding job, might I add - much more so than anything
I ever did in the corporate world!)
-I enrolled
in a creative writing course at UCT and started to work towards the goal of
becoming an author. I wrote a book, which, like piano, was something I have
always wanted to do, getting my first novel down on paper, and am a third of
the way through writing my second novel (with one abandoned literary project
in-between). Writing is not something that just happens when inspiration
strikes (though those 3am - 7am inspiration sessions do occur and I have to
just get up and write till it’s out) - it is a skill one must work on and
develop over time and thousands upon thousands of words. Being aware that
successful writers don't just lie on the beach waiting for heaven to open up
and deliver them a product (read Malcolm Gladwell’s book 'Outliers' to
understand the 10 000 hour concept of success) I allocate 'writing' days where
I start first thing in the morning and work for 8 or more solid hours with just
coffee and a lunch break in between. Nothing glamorous or easy about it.
-I dusted
off my old sewing machine, only ever used for hemming or fixing
store-bought-garments in the past, and started learning to make my own clothing
from scratch. The growing ensemble of 'pami products' now includes an array of
trousers (stretchy jeans, leather leggings, silky sleep bottoms, his and hers
fishing fleecies) children’s pajama’s for my nieces and nephews, baby's touch
quilt, vintage feel lace napkins, various tank tops and long sleeved shirts,
and the latest, a leather Catwoman suit, and a white pom-pomed fluffy
waistcoat.
-I started a
veggie patch, quite a feat for someone who used to have a talent in killing
everything green - including cacti - quite dramatically. (My
'Peace-in-the-Home' is the only survivor of this past opposite-of-green-fingered
me, having miraculously made it through patches of darkness and drought, and an
oops where I once spilled a pot of
boiling pig stock I was making over it...) My garden is now producing herbs and
veggies for the third year in a row, with its first-of-the-season tomato
revealing its round little un-ripe self today. Bless.
There has
been so much more keeping me butterfly-catching, or staying at home, depending
on your perception, but in an attempt to avoid eye-rolling proclamations of
'first world problems', I'll leave the overseeing of house renovations, writing
of blogs, wifeing of high profile husband, running of household, throwing of
life-event parties, baby-sitting and making of red wine reduction sauces,
stuffing my own olives, and whipping up home made mayonnaise’s out for now...
In short,
what do I do all day? I chase dreams, I experience life, I do. I don't believe in 'boredom'. Boredom is for people who bore
people.
3. "But you don't WORK"
Let me
elaborate. Playing a musical instrument requires an extreme amount of mental
and physical effort in order to achieve a result. If you don't believe me, try.
Learning to play the piano as an adult is even harder - not because the work is
harder, but because we are so conditioned into not using our fingers that way, that we first have to break the
years and years of 'hand' behavior and then build new abilities. Cramp-hand is no joke! Just ask the
teens who suffer from bbm-'thumb' carpal tunnel (I mock, but apparently it is a
real thing and has resulted in the need for surgery) and learning to read music
is just like learning a new language - in fact, a few new languages, as you must
memorize a whole bunch of Italian, French and even German terms, along with 'reading' all the semebreve's, dotted minim's, demi-semi-quavers and imperfect cadences. (The good thing about learning as an adult, is there is wine at the end of it...)
Making
clothes also involves mental and physical effort in order to achieve a result. It
is hard, until it becomes easy. Practice generally makes perfect, and trust me,
many a throw-away resulted from my sewing machine before the white pom-pomed
fluffy waistcoat. Writing a book...don't even get me started! The initial 150
000 words were 'easy' to get out relative to the editing, re-editing and multi-editing
processes (they say that 7 is the lucky number). And jumping into the
publishing-pool has been nothing short of an amateur swimmer thrown into the
Cape of Storms in high season. But I continue to paddle, grasping for signs of
land, and continue to write.
4. "You are lost - no direction
in your life! Remember when you used to be in marketing...you were always so
concerned with the next project, the new launch, the sales figures etc... You
had purpose. Direction. Now you are lost."
Erm, no.
Nope. Not true. My past is in my past. I gave it my all when I was there, but
that's just me. When I do something, I do it to the fullest. And I was in a
very different stage in my life. I had to ‘work’ to pay the bills. I had to
build up my own skill set to know that I could take care of myself for the rest
of my life if need be. I needed to prove to myself that I was worthy of the
corporate title I eventually did attain, and made darn sure I studied and put
in the hours to do so. But my past
success is not who I am. I am following a very clear map - the map of Living a
Happy and Meaningful Existence - Whilst Wearing Fabulous Shoes. And speaking of
shoes, the 'Dreams' I have been chasing for the past three years are 'Futures'
I have been trying on, investing in, (convincing my investor to invest in),
ones that I have been walking around the shop floor in, testing to see which
ones will leave the Store of Life with me to carry me through the next phase of
my time here on this planet. (OK, enough with the Capitol Analogies...)
5. "You probably spend all day
tanning on Camps Bay beach, reading books, and getting treatments in beauty
salons."
Aw, thanx
man! You think I look that good?
And yes, yes
I read. Your point?
For the
record, I went to the beach on a week (aka work) day a grand total of ONCE in
the past three years. I go to lunches on an average of once a month (most of my
working friends do 'lunch' more often that that, where absolutely nothing
work-related happens) I have had my nails done...oh wait...that’s right, never.
Nails are things I take care of myself, after hours, every second week or so,
while watching a movie or series with Husband. I am about to go for my first
pedicure next week as a birthday treat, taking my two teenage nieces with me to
enjoy the experience too. The appointment is at 4pm. Sue me.
6. "It must be so nice being at
home. You can kuier all day, drinking
tea." (usually
said with so much back-handed venom that it would take a machine-powered syphon
to suck all that sarcastic poison out!)
It's coffee
most of the time, not tea, and it's mostly by myself with my
manuscript-in-progress or piano books, and not often with friends. Having
coffee is something I did just as much of when in an office environment
(possibly more).
7. "You are on Facebook, like,
24-7! Clearly you have too much time on your hands!"
Facebook is
my 'water-cooler', and I am a sharer. I admit, I am partial to social media. I
check FB/Twitter/Pintrest/Instagram on my phone in traffic on the way to
CrossFit, on my iPad between teaching piano classes, on my laptop with my
morning coffee and on the couch at night when watching a series I am not as
enthralled in as Husband is (when I don't have some hand-sewing to finish or
nails to do, that is) I have a friend who is on Facebook just as often as I am
- she sees all, reads all, browses every photo album. But she is not a natural
sharer. She never hits 'like' or 'share' or comments on statuses like I do, and
thus appears to have no FB activity what so ever. (Very sneaky, my friend)(you
know who you are!) Fun fact: Being an avid social media user (and this is years
of previous marketeering speaking) makes me more of a modern-ling than a
stay-at-home-with-nothing-to-do-ling. Think about it.
8. "You don't wake up to go to
work, your life is a breeze.”
There are
more things in the world to wake up for than 'a job'. Have you ever been on
holiday, with some exciting event planned for the next day, and had to set the
alarm clock for a work-worthy-hour? Welcome to my world. I wake up with Husband
every day. Granted, not to go to an office like him. But to go to work on my
life. (PS Husband and I sleep in on weekends AND WE WILL NOT APOLOGISE FOR THAT
TO ANYONE!)(PPS I am aware that babies will change all of this in one foul
swoop, but I will embrace that bridge when I get there)
9. "I am worried you are going
to turn into one of 'those' women."
Who exactly
are 'those' women? And who gets to judge who 'those' women are? And even once
identifying 'those' women, who are you to decide what 'those' woman do or who
'those' women are in their deeper core beings? Who are you to define them? The
kept? The princesses? The desperate housewives? I don’t know about you, but I
haven't found myself trapped outdoors in nothing but a bath towel any time
recently, and certainly don't have a pool boy (I clean that out-door Jacuzzi
all by myself, yo!) The only people who should be concerned with my current
usage of my time, are me, and Husband. No one else. If he doesn't see me as one
of 'those' women, or if I don't feel that I am one of 'those' women, then what
exactly are we talking about here? Moving on.
10. "Well, you don't have a job,
and you don't as yet have a child. So what are you doing with your life?"
What are you
doing with your life?
Having said
all that, being 'unemployed' definitely has its freedoms - mostly in that my
time is mine to do with as I choose. So there are days where I choose to spend
quality time with my siblings children, or help a friend in doing the school
run for her, or take a friend shopping to find the perfect dress for an
exciting event in her life. There are days where I choose to show a traveling
visitor around my city, or leave early for a long weekend away with Husband, or
attend an NGO meeting, or meet with editors and writers to 'talk books', or simply
have coffee with my folks. I'm not claiming that it's ALL work and no play -
after all, pami is not a dull girl. But what I don’t understand is why what I
choose to do with my time is such a personal offence to some?
To those who
still don't understand why I am on a Dream Catching sabbatical, can you
possibly be happy knowing that I am happy and fulfilled in my life right now
and that my 'cost' of living is taken care of by someone who I have a very open
and honest understanding with whilst I catch those dreams?
To the rest
of the naysayers and haters out there, let me leave you with one final thought.
I have taken a leap of faith, trusting that I can grow my wings in time before
I hit the bottom. Why do you feel the need to stand on your chunk of the
precipice and take cheap shots at me, hoping to knock holes in my dream
catching? I can only come to one conclusion. But Taylor Swift says it better
than me - she has a wonderful little song, which perhaps applies to you. Have a
listen to it here.
(P.S. Hello Kitty called, and she says 'Live and let Live')
Being an
adult student is hard. Ask anyone who has ever embarked on the learning curve (willingly)
post-varsity - we feel as though we signed up for something paralleled to
stocks-and-ladders: We know we did it because we want to develop a skill/pursue
a goal/ do well in our field/follow a dream...but it is just so darn hard to
climb the rungs of learning whilst living an adult life with all its demands
and pressures, to the point of torturous! As if our daily stresses, with its
traffic jams, missed appointments, broken hearts, family dramas, monetary
strains, failed attempts and spreading waistlines weren't bad enough, we go and
throw a nice little self-inflicted exam in the mix? Way to go to hammer the
self-doubt home.
Three years
ago I decided to finally do the thing I had always wanted to do and learn to
play the piano. I thought I had a little raw music talent to help kick things
off, some time on my hands, and a loving Husband who would let me practice to
all hours at home - what could go wrong? Easy! I'd be playing Rachmaninoff in
no time. I'm a grown up, after all. I had worked my way up in the corporate
world from nothing to a National Brand Manager, spent a year in a part of
Zambia not many are willing to go, overcame a deadly disease in my late teens
and lived through the tragedy of losing a loved one to an untimely death.
Learning to play the piano was going to be a piece of red-velvet cake, surely
as easy as it was going to be fun!
But, of course, there was no cake in my immediate future. I had no
idea what a rollercoaster ride I was about to embark on. First the rush, the
fun, the sheer pleasure of it all. Then the fear, the doubt, the hard work of
it all. The past few years have been measured in hot flushes swinging between
happy reward and sweat-drenched frustration. Yes, I learned the difference
between a major and a minor chord. Yes, I learned to play pieces of Billy Joel
and bits by Beethoven. Yes, I can now transpose from simple-duple to complex
time signatures. But mostly, what I have learnt - really learnt, is that work,
work and more work is the only way to play the piano.
I have to be
honest - I don't like the work. It's great when things are clicking into place
and a song is erupting from the keys, but the rest of the time, I am filled
with destructive internal questions. Questions such as; 'Isn't it easier for a
child to learn this stuff? Why am I even trying?!', or 'Doesn't it take a full
ten years to reach the last school level in music? Will I ever get there?!' and
even 'Don't kids absorb more and learn easier? What's the point?!' These are
questions I use when I feel the hardness and injustice of it all, that I am in
my 30's and thus unlucky enough to only be learning my ABC-Majors now. But the
answer to all of that, I'm sorry to say, is 'No. Suck it up, buttercup. You gotta work.'
So then,
after running through a few scales, arpeggio’s and some finger exercises, I
think, 'Oh well, maybe my talent will help me get to the next level.'Wrong again. Talent can help me play a melody
from memory, just as the ability to walk upright will get me from point A to fifteen km's later. But work will help me construct a chord progression around that
melody, work will teach me to read the sheet music to play the fullness of the
song, just as work will help me develop my ability to run five, ten , twenty km's
without stopping! Imagine no one ever pushed harder in training
for a marathon than past the point of sweat. As soon as you are out of breath, then
stop, because that is too hard. No, we keep working, pushing past the
boundaries of our weaknesses, and complete those twenty km's.Imagine we walked away from relationships the first time we found that
it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows? No one would ever stay together. It takes
work to be happy in relationships, work to go the distance. The same goes for learning to play an instrument. This isn't guitar-hero, friends. This is hard, cold, finger-numbing, brain-squeezing, ear-assaulting, hours and hours of work!
Perhaps the
question I should be asking myself when the doubt or laziness arises is 'What
made you do this in the first place?' My answer would be that I love music, and
I love to create. The combination is a powerful form of self-expression that I
simply cannot get in any other way. Listening to music gives me a lot of
pleasure and helps me feel a release of this self-expression, but to truly
experience my inner most feelings and abilities, I need to be able to play it
myself. That's just me. If I want to be able to do that, then I better work.
I think the
best thing about being an adult learner is that I am beyond the competition and
beyond the parental 'thou-shalts’ of it all - I am doing this for me and me
alone. It isn’t about a grade, or getting the top mark, but rather that I want to
know how to play beautiful music so that I can play what I am feeling, and
possibly pass the love on to another. I want to be able to read music so that I
can play what others, composers of the past and present who have lived through
times and lives that I could not even possibly imagine, have felt. But the only
way I will ever be able to experience this bond to both history and self, is
through work.
The moral of
the story is that hard, consistent work is the only way to learn to play the
piano. But it is the most rewarding work I have ever done, and I plan on doing
it for a long time to come.
