Blue-Footed Musings

Poem by Livia M.

Violets and Sunflowers,
the joy they bring these hours,
on a gloomy day,
look outside,
and your day might get
slightly better

Open the door, let in the air;

The winds are sweet and the flowers are fair.

Joy is abroad in the world today;

If our door is wide, it may come this way.

Anonymous

As I mentioned last Sunday, I had some minor side-effects from my first dose of the Coronavirus vaccine. It started with a sore arm. Sunday night, my arm felt better, but I was physically exhausted. On Monday I felt like I was coming down with a cold, but by Tuesday I was back to normal.

The second dose is supposed to be when the major side-effects hit, and I am not looking forward to that. According to the NYT, nearly 8% of people who got the first dose skipped the second, and fear of the side-effects was the reason in some cases. But I don’t plan to be one of those people. I actually already made an appointment to get my second shot, and I’m kind of impressed with myself. Usually I put things off, but this particular thing struck me as important, so I decided to behave like an adult and sign up before A. I forgot about it entirely, B. I lost all the paperwork and couldn’t be sure exactly when I needed to get the shot, and/or C. All the appointments for that day were filled. Now all I have to do is remember to show up.

Meanwhile, my parents have had both of their doses, and they’re past the two-week mark, so they are theoretically immune. We are planning to get together once I’ve gotten my theoretical immunity. I sure hope we’ll be able to keep our plans this time.

I don’t want to play Chopin anymore.

I want to be Chopin.

Chopin was a noted improviser in his day. Many of my favorite classical composers were. They composed music to match their abilities, which was great for them and other pianists with similar abilities, but not so much for me. They had not only more training, but also bigger, stronger hands.

I never could play their work the way it’s meant to be played. My abilities weren’t quite suited to the task. That made me sad until I realized that my abilities weren’t inconsiderable. What I needed was to stop playing to my weaknesses and start playing to my strengths.

So I decided that I would learn to improvise. I forced myself to sit at the piano and just play. Eventually, I freed myself from the written note and learned to improvise music exactly suited to my abilities.

Now I’ve reached the limits of what I can teach myself to do. That’s why Berklee classes sound so appealing. If I could take just one class and be done, I’d go for it, but I don’t have the time or the money to invest in prerequisite classes and other nonsense. I can afford books, though, so when I found one that looked promising, I bought it.

So far, to my surprise, my new book hasn’t failed me. The exercises in it aren’t hard, but I understand the point of working on them past the point of basic mastery. They’re meant to wire my brain a particular way. Brain wiring takes time and practice. I know that, so I’m pushing myself not only to play the exercises repeatedly, but to play them in all the keys, not just the ones I’m comfortable with. Chopin mastered all the keys. So can I.

One downside of using a book rather than taking a class is that there’s no one to hold me accountable. My hubby sometimes reminds me to do my “homework,” but I’m sure he knows that if he pushes too hard, it will not have the desired affect. Ultimately I will have to depend on myself. Having just this month celebrated the 14th anniversary of my blog, I have to believe that I can stick to an open-ended task, and I am cautiously optimistic.