Those of you who've read my blog recognize the title. I first heard that from Craig Bohmler (may he rest in peace), my piano/composition teacher. I was learning about 12-tone composition. There are rules in writing 12-tone, and I was distressed that they'd make it too difficult to compose. After he assured me with the above words, I set out and composed a piece so complicated, I couldn't even play it. I thought it was probably unplayable because it made no sense. But Craig could play it. And it was good.
There are a few teachers who've said things to me, sometimes as brief asides, that stick and help me throughout my life. I remember a biology teacher in high school. She gave us an exam on the first day of class - the first day of class! I scored around 13% - an epic failure. I wound up liking her anyway. The year went by, and, on one of the last days of class, she gave us the same exam again. This time I scored a rousing 28%. Epic failure. (Only the exam, not the class.) She saw my disappointment and said, "Laura, you increased your knowledge 100%!"
I could bring very little with me to Moscow and this isolation limits what I can do, so I have time to write. Writing these bloglettes, which may go unread by many, help me view my situation objectively and sort out and nurse my feelings. I've already made the kind of progress on my novel that gets me thinking about it throughout the day and excited about sitting down with it again, rather than being purely daunted by it. I brought very little piano music with me, so I have the time to focus on a few pieces, rather than beginning a new challenge that teases me away from a beloved piece I still can't quite get right. I brought a piece with me, Mendelssohn's The Venetian Boat Song #2, that I once had memorized. I'm hoping to play it by heart once again. (I love that phrase!) If you've never heard it, look it up and listen to it. It's a short piece, very beautiful.
I've heard the advice to look at what you can do, rather than what you can't do. I agree. What can you practice and get better at? What can you do so you'll not have to do it again for a year, if ever? What can you indulge in that you usually deny yourself because you're so busy? Whom have you not written to or talked to for too long? Are you able to let your circadian rhythm dictate your hours rather than a strict work schedule?
We Americans cherish our freedoms. Most often, the freedoms referred to are worship, gun possession and speaking our minds. What other simpler freedoms can we discover inside our own homes?
There are a few teachers who've said things to me, sometimes as brief asides, that stick and help me throughout my life. I remember a biology teacher in high school. She gave us an exam on the first day of class - the first day of class! I scored around 13% - an epic failure. I wound up liking her anyway. The year went by, and, on one of the last days of class, she gave us the same exam again. This time I scored a rousing 28%. Epic failure. (Only the exam, not the class.) She saw my disappointment and said, "Laura, you increased your knowledge 100%!"
I could bring very little with me to Moscow and this isolation limits what I can do, so I have time to write. Writing these bloglettes, which may go unread by many, help me view my situation objectively and sort out and nurse my feelings. I've already made the kind of progress on my novel that gets me thinking about it throughout the day and excited about sitting down with it again, rather than being purely daunted by it. I brought very little piano music with me, so I have the time to focus on a few pieces, rather than beginning a new challenge that teases me away from a beloved piece I still can't quite get right. I brought a piece with me, Mendelssohn's The Venetian Boat Song #2, that I once had memorized. I'm hoping to play it by heart once again. (I love that phrase!) If you've never heard it, look it up and listen to it. It's a short piece, very beautiful.
I've heard the advice to look at what you can do, rather than what you can't do. I agree. What can you practice and get better at? What can you do so you'll not have to do it again for a year, if ever? What can you indulge in that you usually deny yourself because you're so busy? Whom have you not written to or talked to for too long? Are you able to let your circadian rhythm dictate your hours rather than a strict work schedule?
We Americans cherish our freedoms. Most often, the freedoms referred to are worship, gun possession and speaking our minds. What other simpler freedoms can we discover inside our own homes?
This painting, Beggar Spanish Girl by Evgraf Sorokin, was at a museum in Moscow when Douglas and I were here in December.
I love the body language in the little Spanish girl. She'll take the coin. She's grateful (arm over her heart), or she's protective, or trying to hold her shirt in place. Yet her face shows how it pains her. And I think her feet are tired judging by the full picture above.
No comments:
Post a Comment