ringing in the new year

yes, it's the third of january already. it's taken me a week to be back to feeling myself, and even then i'm not totally over my cold. i relish the small bubbles of energy shimmying from my toes to my head. i was focused today at work. just now i played piano for three-quarters of an hour (this always leaves my hands feeling electric). and, like the eighty-year-old that lives deep, down inside of me, i'm going to brush my teeth and hop into bed with a book during the eight o'clock hour. getting sick seems to have flipped my internal clock; i got into work at 7:15 this morning. time will tell if this becomes a pattern.

i picked up aja gabel's the ensemble when i was at the portland book festival in november and i started reading it new year's eve day while i was still sick. the novel may be about a string quartet, but i'll nonetheless cite that as one of many reasons i trimmed my nails so i could let my fingers wander on the black and white keys of my childhood upright piano. i've decided to learn the downton abbey suite, which is certainly much more difficult than i thought it would be. the piano transcription highlights the weakness in my fourth (ring) finger on my left hand (time for hanon exercises?!). although the notes themselves are easy to read, i spent a healthy amount of time counting out loud, slapping the rhythms out on my thighs, and playing the first page, hands separate, at less than half of the prescribed tempo. being out of practice is tedious, but as i'm on the cusp of another birthday, i'm pleased to know that i can still dust off the years of piano lessons i keep in my back pocket and resume playing.

would you look at that? it's almost my bedtime. 2019, you old so-and-so. let's do this.

3 feb 2016

what's the thing that drives you? give your time and your energy to that thing. make it a priority.

on the heels of about 80 minutes at the piano, i know that i've found it. being able to play freely for the first time in years without concern over disrupting someone else is undoubtably the best thing for my health. one neighbor has complimented my playing, the other hasn't made a single peep about it. i've played mozart, moszkowski, and martin cuellar. i've practiced scales and done hanon exercises. i've sightread bartok. if something's going to give, it'll likely happen now and not several months from now. i'm lucky that the only thing under my apartment is a garage, because i think that is where the sound has the most potential for intrusion.

what gives with all the piano playing? i'm making large plans, my friends: a year from now, i'm giving a concert. recital? i haven't decided what the appropriate term is. i'm having this thing. i'm going to invite friends and i'm going to play piano. there a nervous anticipation brewing in my chest just dreaming about it. will i be able to collaborate with fellow musicians? because that sounds like so much fun. if not for this performance, it's certainly something to aspire to.

the dust has settled. i've almost been in this place for six months and for a while i didn't know what was next. in fact, i'm sure i had more than one conversation along the lines of "what do you do?" wherein i replied, "well, i go to work, come home, read, pet my cat, cook. and i'm not sure what else i want to do at this point, but i'm really happy." i knew that wouldn't last forever, and i'm grateful to have something to work on.

also, i'm still rather happy.