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Beethoven Symphony #6 – “Pastoral”

Playing Beethoven tonight.  Best escape imaginable.  Who needs vino rosso when you have Ludwig?

Have a listen

BeethovenI had a somewhat traumatic disappointment with regard to my violin career several years ago.  I had invested years of sweat, passion and hopes into this piece of wood shaped like a woman and suffered a heartbreaking disappointment.  Having played with 110% of my heart since the age of 6, I felt betrayed by my violin, much like a lover who had cheated on me.  As a self-protective mechanism, I put my violin in the corner of the room and shut down.  A big part of my love for violin died at that time 10 years ago which I haven’t been able to resuscitate.  There are glimpses of remembrance when after a few months of dust collecting I decide to pick it up and start playing again.  I remember after a few minutes that we really are inseparable and that I love playing; yet it still doesn’t feel quite the same.  I don’t have the deep hunger and passion I used to have for it – probably because I’m afraid if I let myself open up again and love and hope to the depths that I once did, Little Miss Violin will cheat yet again or betray me after I put so many hours of love and tears into her.   She has a place on the back burner but she is definitely still there.  My memory of her is no longer all-consuming but nostalgic and reflective.  I could go months without playing or going to a concert and not feel a void of any great proportion.  However, once I reconnect after a long sabbatical, I can’t help but feel a pang in my gut.  It is very bittersweet for me to be there, knowing in some ways Violinthat’s the land where I belong, yet still stubbornly resolved to avoidance of the former lover so I won’t get hurt again.  I manage  to reside in a musical purgatory of sorts.  At the concert tonight when I’m playing, I know I will have that bittersweet feeling again.  I will be transported and totally carefree as I remember that no matter what disappointments or setbacks I have faced in life, the violin is much more than an appendage.  It is me.


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