Music Connection
Ever since this year started, I got a bit scared. I started wondering whether I had lost my feel for music. For once, I was not playing the piano and singing with my students; I was not leading them in rhythmic musical creations; I was not standing in their midst to lead them to feel the power and beauty of music with me.
There I was, just practising my flute, guitar and piano as and when. And my singing...limited to my little tunes in the car while I drove, or the once-in-a-blue-moon meet-up with friends to sing at the karaoke. There seemed to be no more connection to music - I could not feel that familiar rush of music within me.
My job was mainly desk-bound. I was typing and writing lots, but not making music, singing or performing with my students. I thought I lost it - that connection with music. To me, losing the connection was fearful - more so, than cockroaches or lizards.
There were times I would sit in front of my piano, picking out a tune, and after a while, close the lid of the piano in sheer frustration, for the pieces I played felt dry and lifeless for some reason. Ditto for the music I played on the flute and the guitar. Then recently, I practised Canon in D on the piano for my good friend's wedding - she had asked me to play that piece for her march-in. I remembered the piece so well. It was one of my favourites. I had not only played it on the piano for my students before, I had loved it so dearly too when listening to James Galway gently push the notes out on his golden flute.
I placed my hands on the piano keys, in preparation for the first notes of Canon in D. Then, closing my eyes, I released my fingers, letting them run freely and feeling my heart fill up with the music as I played. It wasn't a short piece, but I felt it moving fast as it swished through every one of my life channels. I was in some kind of trance - neither imagining clouds nor beautiful scenery - just drifting freely into the music, and feeling.
My fingers stopped at the last note of the piece. I kept my eyes closed, still lost within what felt like the continuous ripples of the music.
I smiled. I had not lost it after all. Music was still with me. It had always been...regardless.
There I was, just practising my flute, guitar and piano as and when. And my singing...limited to my little tunes in the car while I drove, or the once-in-a-blue-moon meet-up with friends to sing at the karaoke. There seemed to be no more connection to music - I could not feel that familiar rush of music within me.
My job was mainly desk-bound. I was typing and writing lots, but not making music, singing or performing with my students. I thought I lost it - that connection with music. To me, losing the connection was fearful - more so, than cockroaches or lizards.
There were times I would sit in front of my piano, picking out a tune, and after a while, close the lid of the piano in sheer frustration, for the pieces I played felt dry and lifeless for some reason. Ditto for the music I played on the flute and the guitar. Then recently, I practised Canon in D on the piano for my good friend's wedding - she had asked me to play that piece for her march-in. I remembered the piece so well. It was one of my favourites. I had not only played it on the piano for my students before, I had loved it so dearly too when listening to James Galway gently push the notes out on his golden flute.
I placed my hands on the piano keys, in preparation for the first notes of Canon in D. Then, closing my eyes, I released my fingers, letting them run freely and feeling my heart fill up with the music as I played. It wasn't a short piece, but I felt it moving fast as it swished through every one of my life channels. I was in some kind of trance - neither imagining clouds nor beautiful scenery - just drifting freely into the music, and feeling.
My fingers stopped at the last note of the piece. I kept my eyes closed, still lost within what felt like the continuous ripples of the music.
I smiled. I had not lost it after all. Music was still with me. It had always been...regardless.
Labels: reflections
posted by Jeanie Lee @ 9:49 PM.
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