i'm soaked in martha agerich's electrifying rendition of the rach III and the selfish part of me cannot fully focus on all that's going on. it's because i'm focused on me, and i feel wistful. with her every singing note, her every impassioned cascade, i feel the pressure of the ivory against my fingers, cool and responsive as the keys sink in, singing out my story, expressing my feelings. and a sadness sinks in, because it's not true. in reality i'm in my cube at work, and my fingers are now clumsy from two years of non-practice. what's more, as i'm feeling all this, i'm typing on a plastic ergonomic keyboard. blah. i miss being on stage, auditorium blackened, the soft light of the spotlight. i miss the feeling of the excitement as the keys fully respond to my every whim, as i barely breathe for fear of ruining it all. i miss playing with the orchestra behind me, and the exuberance of the implicit call and response, and the resulting euphony of a perfect synergy. and most of all i miss my solace, as i focus on bach, beethoven, chopin... who always understand. posted by testimonies 11:27 AM Add a comment . . .
