I Have a Story to Tell
One about me. About music.
I practice each and every day in my school's piano rooms, that are situated in the junior school building. One morning, whilst playing an incredibly fast piece, two faces were peeking through the small arm sized window situated in the door. I was applauded when I finished, and they walked in.
They told me their names and how brilliant I was. I felt a bit pleased. They asked me what I could play, and I did so. They asked if I could teach them some pieces and I did.
I felt like a hero.
So humble
Or like a type of kind giant sharing knowledge.
I walked out when it was time to get to class, and took a long walk to get to the college building.
Each break I have an actual piano lesson. Miserable. A failure. Not good enough. I actually DO have a grade 5 exam this Saturday. Im not ready.
The pieces I play to the small girls were and origional composition, or something I learned from my previous and great piano teacher I had since the age of 4. (Tannie Inez, as jy hierdie lees, ek is baie dankbaar, en jy het my goed geleer)
I learned how to play moonlight sonata by ear, in a day(no, its not that baby crap version). I learn how to play the last day(by the rock diamond) by ear. Mozart pieces by ear, but I cannot read the goddamn notes( I have mastered the ability to name notes, know where they are and all when I was younger). I cannot associate something audible with sight. Yes I have the pieces learned, but learning it from page is hell. My old teacher helped me play the piece, not just tell me to learn a few bars by the next day at home.
It burns me. I have the talent. I know I do.
Thank you little music lovers that visit me. You have shown me and helped with my sadness and fear of failure, althought it is not completely healed.
Good luck with your little exam tomorrow<3
I practice each and every day in my school's piano rooms, that are situated in the junior school building. One morning, whilst playing an incredibly fast piece, two faces were peeking through the small arm sized window situated in the door. I was applauded when I finished, and they walked in.
They told me their names and how brilliant I was. I felt a bit pleased. They asked me what I could play, and I did so. They asked if I could teach them some pieces and I did.
I felt like a hero.
So humble
Or like a type of kind giant sharing knowledge.
I walked out when it was time to get to class, and took a long walk to get to the college building.
Each break I have an actual piano lesson. Miserable. A failure. Not good enough. I actually DO have a grade 5 exam this Saturday. Im not ready.
The pieces I play to the small girls were and origional composition, or something I learned from my previous and great piano teacher I had since the age of 4. (Tannie Inez, as jy hierdie lees, ek is baie dankbaar, en jy het my goed geleer)
I learned how to play moonlight sonata by ear, in a day(no, its not that baby crap version). I learn how to play the last day(by the rock diamond) by ear. Mozart pieces by ear, but I cannot read the goddamn notes( I have mastered the ability to name notes, know where they are and all when I was younger). I cannot associate something audible with sight. Yes I have the pieces learned, but learning it from page is hell. My old teacher helped me play the piece, not just tell me to learn a few bars by the next day at home.
It burns me. I have the talent. I know I do.
Thank you little music lovers that visit me. You have shown me and helped with my sadness and fear of failure, althought it is not completely healed.
Good luck with your little exam tomorrow<3
