another generation of graduates were ushered from the THS gym today. and i remember how exciting that was. and it scares me that im already at the remembering-what-it-was-like-to-graduate stage - that's a MEMORY.
kristen: i remember what it felt like
me: me too
kristen: like everything was at our fingertips
me: and then reality hit.
CAUTION: entry of distress
despite my skillful dodging, i bumped into mrs freese at eric's graduation party. before i could escape eye contact she asked, "so, did you make it?"
UGH.
took a deep breath, sat down, and told the story with my best forced smile. salt all over old wounds. breaking the news to people who had invested a significant amount of time into me was something i dreaded - more than that. it's apart of the nightmare. all along i knew i was auditioning for more than just me - almost as though i was proving myself.
but i didn't prove anything.
mrs. kennedy still doesn't know. and i really should call, because i know she cares the most. but, i just can't. i spent a good part of my life behind her piano... and i admire her for how much she has taught me. she helped me pick the pieces i was going to play - and was the most realistic when i told her how long i had to practice. she's always been the hardest person to impress, and ive always taken satisfaction in the challenge. practiced harder for her recitals, listened when she critiqued. and through all these years, ive always wanted to prove myself to her - all the time that i spent practicing can be matched by all the time she spent teaching. we each invested time and effort - and i doubt i could ever muster the courage to admit that i choked.
and it burns, a lot. always will. more than anything ive really had to deal with. wasn't just an instrument i spent a few years playing - and used as a token to impress my friends. it's a craft that i spent a good part of my life learning and hoping to perfect - something i was good at.
and i cringe when i place myself back in the room in front of the two professors with hands folded in their laps. they didn't need to see my music. they just crossed their legs and focused their attention on me. and out of all the times ive played the song perfectly, i still can't figure out why my fingers slipped - why i couldn't get them in the right spots.
every once in a while as i pass a piano, i'll play the first measures. perfectly. even after not glancing at the music for weeks, i can play the entire piece. gut wrenchingly frustrating.
im glad i didn't audition again. it's not that im upset about not getting into the program - almost thankful for an opportunity to reevaluate all of my motives behind it. maybe im more upset about failing. disappointing. not just the people ive learned from, but myself.
and i know that ive crumbled while dealing with it. which i accept as a fault. i wish i couldve just accepted my best effort and moved on... unfortunately, that's not quite how i work.
someone will say, "everything will work out."
another will claim, "it's all for the best"
cliches that are flexible for most emotional traumas.
doesn't matter if i believe that or not... im moving on anyway.
kristen: i remember what it felt like
me: me too
kristen: like everything was at our fingertips
me: and then reality hit.
CAUTION: entry of distress
despite my skillful dodging, i bumped into mrs freese at eric's graduation party. before i could escape eye contact she asked, "so, did you make it?"
UGH.
took a deep breath, sat down, and told the story with my best forced smile. salt all over old wounds. breaking the news to people who had invested a significant amount of time into me was something i dreaded - more than that. it's apart of the nightmare. all along i knew i was auditioning for more than just me - almost as though i was proving myself.
but i didn't prove anything.
mrs. kennedy still doesn't know. and i really should call, because i know she cares the most. but, i just can't. i spent a good part of my life behind her piano... and i admire her for how much she has taught me. she helped me pick the pieces i was going to play - and was the most realistic when i told her how long i had to practice. she's always been the hardest person to impress, and ive always taken satisfaction in the challenge. practiced harder for her recitals, listened when she critiqued. and through all these years, ive always wanted to prove myself to her - all the time that i spent practicing can be matched by all the time she spent teaching. we each invested time and effort - and i doubt i could ever muster the courage to admit that i choked.
and it burns, a lot. always will. more than anything ive really had to deal with. wasn't just an instrument i spent a few years playing - and used as a token to impress my friends. it's a craft that i spent a good part of my life learning and hoping to perfect - something i was good at.
and i cringe when i place myself back in the room in front of the two professors with hands folded in their laps. they didn't need to see my music. they just crossed their legs and focused their attention on me. and out of all the times ive played the song perfectly, i still can't figure out why my fingers slipped - why i couldn't get them in the right spots.
every once in a while as i pass a piano, i'll play the first measures. perfectly. even after not glancing at the music for weeks, i can play the entire piece. gut wrenchingly frustrating.
im glad i didn't audition again. it's not that im upset about not getting into the program - almost thankful for an opportunity to reevaluate all of my motives behind it. maybe im more upset about failing. disappointing. not just the people ive learned from, but myself.
and i know that ive crumbled while dealing with it. which i accept as a fault. i wish i couldve just accepted my best effort and moved on... unfortunately, that's not quite how i work.
someone will say, "everything will work out."
another will claim, "it's all for the best"
cliches that are flexible for most emotional traumas.
doesn't matter if i believe that or not... im moving on anyway.
