My last post was one in which I vented the pent up frustrations that have been taking up space in my head for the last few days. Getting it all down was a very helpful form of release, and though it all sounded a tad bit too whiny and self-centered upon further reflection, sometimes it's important to just spew what it is that is bothering you. I have a habit of needing to let moods and emotions run their course. Now that I have been able to let everything out, I am in a much more positive frame of mind and ready to face the summer.
So today I embarked on my previously mentioned quest to learn a new instrument. The one I've chosen to start off with first: the guitar. I figured that I can take my guitar pretty much everywhere - to my room, infront of the television, outside in the backyard...you get the picture. It would be a little tougher hauling around the keyboard with me everywhere I went. As it turns out, it was a good decision to start off with the guitar, besides its obvious size benefits. It's been a pretty easy instrument to pick up, taking into consideration the fact that today was my very first day ever touching it. I should probably explain my musical background more in depth first as a way to preface my first encounter with the guitar.
You see, when I was three or four, I fell head-over-heels in love with the violin. I loved the way it looked, I loved the way it sounded, and I loved the beautiful strokes made by the bows of professional violinists as they effortlessly caressed the strings to produce a form of music so soft and sweet it sent chills down my tiny spine. I begged for lessons, but my mother was advised that it would not be wise to get me started on such a complex instrument until I were older and mature enough to handle the strain it would have on my growing mind. I have no idea where that advice came from and though it probably wasnt the only determining factor in a household with a two young children to feed, I wasnt signed up for violin lessons until I reached the age of nine. I was ecstatic and under the tutelage of a wonderful and zany music professor I learned the ins and outs of the violin. My teacher truly was crazy, but it the good sense. She was exactly how you'd picture the perfect music teacher (or at least how I always did) - wild, and artsy and a bit psychotic, but always enthusiastic about her students and the music that she taught. She inspired me to join the school band when the opportunity came years later.
Since it was a band and not an orchestra, I had to choose a new instrument. When I asked my old violin professor, she straight away told me to choose the french horn. When I asked her why she said that nobody plays the french horn. I was kind of confused by that answer, but she went on to explain that since nobody plays horn, it is more in demand for colleges and the scholarships would be abundant. Being the overachiever that I am, I couldnt help but agree with that sort of logic. Though I did still test out several different instruments (flute, clarinet, oboe, trumpet and trombone) before making my decision, something just felt right when I got that first horn in my hands. From that day on, the horn became my instrument. Eventually, as my schedule got more hectic and my academics more demanding, violin slowly faded from the picture, eclipsed by my new-found love, the french horn. I still know how to play the violin to this day of course, because you dont forget that easily, but it is no longer my one and only instrument.
In the years that followed I learned to play a variety of different instruments for a variety of different reasons. First came the xylophone, then the mellophone. Since I could play the mellophone, I was automatically able to play the trumpet (they have the same fingering). Later came the saxophone, which I still havent quite gotten down to where I feel completely comfortable, but its getting there. Long story short, I have a history of picking up instruments. Sound has always been a big part of my life. As I previously mentioned, I've been singing practically longer than I've been talking. And my parents say that I used to mimic accents and pick up on melodies after the first time I'd hear things. Which must have been true, since it still occurs today. If I hear a song once and am truly listening, I'll pretty much remember the majority of the lyrics and get at least the gist of the melody.
Now that I have provided a brief history of my musical life, I can continue by saying that the guitar was a completely different animal. It's frustrating and beautiful and terrible and addicting. Though today was my first time picking it up, I played with it for at least five hours. Some might call that crazy, some may call it dedication. I'm in the middle, but kind of leaning toward the crazy because of the reason why I practiced so long. Using the lovely resource that is the internet, I was able to discover the tabs for pretty much every single song in Spring Awakening. If you know me, you know that is a big deal. Spring Awakening is one of my favorite musicals of all time. As I browsed the tabs, looking for a song that a no-knowledge beginner like me would be able to play, I came across "Don't Do Sadness" sans "Blue Wind". I was elated, because not only do I absolutely love the haunting song, but the tabs were pretty straightforward. So I pretty much spent my whole day attempting to play "Don't Do Sadness" with at least a moderate degree of accuracy.
Again, it feels good to have gotten all of this down. The words have been caught up inside of my mind all day, and its nice to finally have them out and down neatly somewhere. Another wierd thing about me is that I have a tendancy to think in words. You know how most people think or dream with pictures and little movies or visions? I see descriptions and whole bits of dialouge written out in my mind like words on a page. So sometimes, when I'm deep in thought for a long time, my thoughts can get a little crowded. This problems goes back to the reason I made this blog - to be my creative outlet.
So I can let the words flow freely.
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