I put a lot of time into being a pianist. But people don't always realize how much time and energy goes into it.
I tell them it's like exercise. You have to do it every day. I can't just stop for a couple weeks, then dive back in and expect to play my Mozart concerto (my first ever--squeeee!) at the same level as before. It hurts my head, it hurts my hands, and is a tedious struggle getting back on track.
Rachmaninoff nails it, saying,
"If I miss practice for one day, I notice. If I miss practice for two days, my critics notice. If I miss practice for three days, everybody notices."
But some days it's a fight to drag myself to the piano. Some days practice is boring. Sometimes life gets in the way and my time is forced to be spent elsewhere. The solution?
Score study! The fancy name for what's basically the Think System, Professor Harold Hill's ingenious method of practicing away from your instrument. But unlike his students in "The Music Man," I'm actually making progress.
Nowadays, I bring a score to the coffee shop and play on the table top, or to my receptionist job for when I have a break. The library. The park. Long car rides. I'm amazed at how much this mental weightlifting
has helped me improve this summer, and how much time I save. By the time I practice at the piano, my fingering and rhythm is already solid, and I can dig deeper into the music. It also gives me the feeling that I am an invincible musical wizard. Or a Jedi. I can't tell which one is better.
Sometimes I get curious looks from people. They ask how I can call it practice if it's not at a piano. What am I actually doing? A lot, as it happens, and it's paying off.
Monday, July 15, 2013
Love is Love
On Monday, I witnessed history.
It was a last minute decision. My friend and I drove to the Capitol to watch Governor Dayton sign the same-sex marriage bill into law, which as of August 1st gives gay and lesbian couples the legal right to get married.
We got there a little early and explored the Capitol building. Turns out it contains a lot of sketchy hallways and tunnels, a cafeteria with walls decorated with German table blessings, and more people in suits than I was prepared for.
So many people were milling about, and you could sense the excitement.
As it got closer to 5 o'clock, we gathered in front of the Capitol steps. What followed is a problem that I've been dealing with all my life.
I couldn't see anything. I'm around 5'2. We were near the media crews, so we were rather close to the podium. I'm glad we showed up when we did, because there were thousands of people there. Except I didn't know this, because I couldn't see past the people in front or behind me! I must admit, I was somewhat disappointed--I wanted to take great pictures to post on here. This was a big deal--my friends are finally getting the equal rights they deserve! I felt like I couldn't be a good witness to it now.
But let me tell you what I did see.
I saw families. Moms and moms, dads and dads, with their babies and toddlers and 8 year olds and teenagers. This was the most meaningful part for me. I don't consider family to be just about shared genes. It's about people who you share a bond with and are with you every step of the way. These families with gay parents were always families in my mind, and now I felt an indescribable happiness knowing that they would soon become legally recognized as such, and would enjoy the same benefits and protection that any straight-parented family might have.
Rainbow flags. Raised high, waving in the air, held by old guys and and 20-something moms. One of them was 10 feet tall, each color with a different streamer, being held up over the grass between the Capitol steps. On our way out we walked by and it almost swallowed me like Charlie Brown's kite-eating tree.
Dizzy, dehydrated, sunburned, but nonetheless happy people. And I was one of them!
Middle-aged 9-5 desk-job types standing next to frisbee-throwing hippies. I love America.
No signs of a protest. I'm sure there must have been some anti-gay marriage group there. It's sad that I assume so, but we live in a time where it's always within the realm of possibility. But from what I could tell, it was a joyous, calm event, celebrating the fact that equality had triumphed.
It was a last minute decision. My friend and I drove to the Capitol to watch Governor Dayton sign the same-sex marriage bill into law, which as of August 1st gives gay and lesbian couples the legal right to get married.
We got there a little early and explored the Capitol building. Turns out it contains a lot of sketchy hallways and tunnels, a cafeteria with walls decorated with German table blessings, and more people in suits than I was prepared for.
So many people were milling about, and you could sense the excitement.
As it got closer to 5 o'clock, we gathered in front of the Capitol steps. What followed is a problem that I've been dealing with all my life.
I couldn't see anything. I'm around 5'2. We were near the media crews, so we were rather close to the podium. I'm glad we showed up when we did, because there were thousands of people there. Except I didn't know this, because I couldn't see past the people in front or behind me! I must admit, I was somewhat disappointed--I wanted to take great pictures to post on here. This was a big deal--my friends are finally getting the equal rights they deserve! I felt like I couldn't be a good witness to it now.
But let me tell you what I did see.
I saw families. Moms and moms, dads and dads, with their babies and toddlers and 8 year olds and teenagers. This was the most meaningful part for me. I don't consider family to be just about shared genes. It's about people who you share a bond with and are with you every step of the way. These families with gay parents were always families in my mind, and now I felt an indescribable happiness knowing that they would soon become legally recognized as such, and would enjoy the same benefits and protection that any straight-parented family might have.
Rainbow flags. Raised high, waving in the air, held by old guys and and 20-something moms. One of them was 10 feet tall, each color with a different streamer, being held up over the grass between the Capitol steps. On our way out we walked by and it almost swallowed me like Charlie Brown's kite-eating tree.
Dizzy, dehydrated, sunburned, but nonetheless happy people. And I was one of them!
Middle-aged 9-5 desk-job types standing next to frisbee-throwing hippies. I love America.
No signs of a protest. I'm sure there must have been some anti-gay marriage group there. It's sad that I assume so, but we live in a time where it's always within the realm of possibility. But from what I could tell, it was a joyous, calm event, celebrating the fact that equality had triumphed.
Hymn sing
Yesterday in worship we had a hymn sing. They had taken a poll, asking members to name their favorite hymns. So we sang and listened to a few people talk about why a particular hymn was significant to them.
It brought my Grandma to mind....
I attended a Lutheran grade school where for eight years, every week on Fridays we studied a hymn. And memorized it. So I have all these hymns in my head, which is a wonderful gift even though I learned the version with 'thee's and 'thy's that have now been changed to you and your.
Having memorized a bunch of hymns came in very handy when I was 19 and spent the last morning of my Grandma's life sitting at her hospital bedside. The day before I had been there when the pastor came to visit, he read a verse and we sang her favorite hymn, Behold the Host Arrayed in White. So on the morning of her last day, the hospital called at about 4 AM to say she was agitated, would someone come? My uncle and I took the first shift. Unlike the day before, when they only let us into her ICU room for ten minutes every hour, and only two at a time, this day they welcomed us and let us stay. So I held her hand and talked with her, but she was restless and not at ease, breathing fast and shallow. So I sang the song from the day before. She took this really deep breath, relaxed and her hands stopped clutching at the sheets. I thought she fell asleep, so when I got to the end of the verse I stopped singing. She startled, looked at me, and squeezed my hand. I started singing and she relaxed again.
I sang everything I could remember for the next several hours until other relatives came to sit with her. Every time I stopped, she squeezed my hand.
It brought my Grandma to mind....
I attended a Lutheran grade school where for eight years, every week on Fridays we studied a hymn. And memorized it. So I have all these hymns in my head, which is a wonderful gift even though I learned the version with 'thee's and 'thy's that have now been changed to you and your.
Having memorized a bunch of hymns came in very handy when I was 19 and spent the last morning of my Grandma's life sitting at her hospital bedside. The day before I had been there when the pastor came to visit, he read a verse and we sang her favorite hymn, Behold the Host Arrayed in White. So on the morning of her last day, the hospital called at about 4 AM to say she was agitated, would someone come? My uncle and I took the first shift. Unlike the day before, when they only let us into her ICU room for ten minutes every hour, and only two at a time, this day they welcomed us and let us stay. So I held her hand and talked with her, but she was restless and not at ease, breathing fast and shallow. So I sang the song from the day before. She took this really deep breath, relaxed and her hands stopped clutching at the sheets. I thought she fell asleep, so when I got to the end of the verse I stopped singing. She startled, looked at me, and squeezed my hand. I started singing and she relaxed again.
I sang everything I could remember for the next several hours until other relatives came to sit with her. Every time I stopped, she squeezed my hand.
Behold the host, arrayed in white
like thousand snow-clad mountains bright,
that stands with palms and sings its psalms before the throne of light!
These are the saints who kept God's word;
they are the honored of the Lord.
He is their prince who drowned their sins
so they were cleansed, restored.
They now serve God both day and night;
they sing their songs in endless light.
Their anthems ring when they all sing with angels shining bright.
It's not my all time favorite hymn, but it brings my Grandma back for a moment, squeezing my hand, telling me to sing some more.
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