Talking about music is like dancing about architecture. ~~ Frank Zappa
Mr. Zappa may be correct in some regards, but I prefer not to take advice from a man who names his children Dweezil and Moon Unit. Here I go, talking about music:
Right now, I'm working on a few awesome piano pieces. One is Arabesque No. 2 by Claude Debussy, a very fast paced song meant for someone with much larger hands than my own. I'm trying not to over-practice it, or else my hands hurt. Once I learn it though, it will blow your mind! I actually like it better than his first and more popular arabesque. The other song is by Haydn. I just got it from my teacher this week, but I can't remember the name of it! It's in the key of G, if that helps. She gave me a bunch of songs to choose from to learn for the state contest in February, but I think I really like the Haydn.
All other music studies go well. When I play violin it doesn't sound like a mass of dying cats anymore, and when I play accordion it no longer sounds like a bunch of honking. Success! One can only take so much accordion music, though. I haven't pulled out my harmonica in months. I have one of those things that holds it, so I could play guitar and harmonica simultaneously, but it's like acrobatics for the brain. Takes a lot of concentration. One time--after lots and lots of practice-- I managed to play guitar and harmonica while also tapping a tambourine with my foot. It was an odd sight to see, but not exactly a bad thing to hear.
I'm surprised that the neighbors have never come to our door with torches and pitchforks, telling us to stop playing Beethoven at 7:30 in the morning (Mom, not me), stop the screeching violin, no more Johnny Cash and "Waltzing Matilda" on the accordion, and please turn down the radio. But that's never happened. No neighborhood petition, no nothing. One time, the guy on the other side of the fence said he actually liked to sit on his deck and listen to my mom's piano playing in the evening. But that's not surprising, I guess.
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