Music

You couldn't tell it was a Friday night at my house. At 9:30, almost all the lights were out. Both my sisters were asleep, my mom was reading upstairs with only a faint bluish glow from the nook, and my dad was dozing off in front of a muted baseball game on tv. I was rediscovering my love of piano.

Over the summer, I all but completely stopped practicing piano and guitar. Piano became a once-a-week, half-an-hour obligation where I had to try and not disappoint my teacher too much. And I didn't touch a guitar unless my dad asked me to play with him for 20 minutes or so. I felt tired, lazy, uninspired. With the start of senior year, this only worsened, as I was distracted and stressed out by everything school-related.

I'm not sure how to put this, but I felt passive and exhausted at the beginning of this school year. I was getting less sleep than ever, I felt like I couldn't devote my time to anything, I was losing interest in most everything. For awhile, it was basically walking to school and sitting around, then walking home and sitting around. So for those 45 minutes when I finally decided to sit down and create something beautiful, something I love, I felt happier then ever. I was alone in my own world, playing slow, sad, haunting, dramatic, peaceful, beautiful music. And it was all my own.

Music has always been a very personal, intimate thing for me. I don't like to listen to it or play it when any one else is around. Because the thought that something so affecting for me could be silly or wrong to someone else is frankly frightening. At the same time, isn't music a great unifier? Some 3 minute song can move thousands of people. People can have an personal connection with a song, while knowing that so many others have been touched by the same, simple arrangement of notes.

This is why I'm trying to be less insecure and protective of my music. I used to never play piano when anyone else was around- because I might make mistakes and burden them with having to hear something "wrong." And I still look forward to the times when my family heads off to one of my sister's softball tournaments, and I can play one of my dad's SACDS which is incompatible with my iTunes, and spin around and sing alone, free from fear of judgement. But if I play something when someone else is around, and they don't enjoy it, I don't want to feel bad about bugging them. I want to live music. Because the only sad thing is when we are unable to appreciate something so individually yet universally beautiful.