Holy wow, it's been a very long time since I've posted anything. If I could, I would scan pictures of my calendar these last few months just to prove how busy I've been, but that would be pretty whiny and I'm sure I'm not the busiest person in the world. Probably not even the busiest person in the UW School of Music. Possibly not even the busiest person in my immediate family. But this isn't helping things.
 |
| This set designer fooled me! |
So life in school is winding down, and frankly I couldn't be happier about that. You know that scene at the end of "The Truman Show" when Jim Carrey runs into the edge of the sky with his boat while trying to sail away, and just sits there looking at the edge of his opaque snow globe world? That's kind of how I'm feeling now. While school feels safe and warm and filled with books, it's also started to feel a bit confined and unvarying. (10 points if you know what movie I just referenced!) I just want to get out in the world and get my ass kicked. 6 months from now, I'll probably be saying just the opposite. Curse this economy. But for now, moving away from the occasional T-ball-like musical world of school ("it doesn't matter who won, what matters is everyone's improving!"), sounds pretty darn good.
 |
| Imagine this but silk with a flowy skirt and scoop neckline. |
But before I can flip that tassel and throw my hat (as if I'm going to attend a commencement ceremony at a school of 40,000), I have to play my master's recital in just a few short weeks. I've been practicing like a...like a...there should be some sort of hard-working but intellectual animal metaphor here, and I feel good about my upcoming performance. The thing about recitals is, they're friendly, peaceful ventures. You pick music you love and sound good playing, you wear a pretty dress (mine's floor-length and eggplant-colored, squeeee!), your parents fly out and buy snacks for your reception, and people cheer for you and give you hugs at the end. Unlike auditions which are firing squads designed to make you crack, recitals give you a chance to play beautiful and look beautiful and feel adored.
Barring any unforeseen chop injuries, memory slips, or wardrobe malfunctions, I fully expect to have a great time at mine. And maybe the audience will too. Though actually, most of the people there are bored about 25 minutes in and already imagining what flavor of hummus I bought for my reception and whether my mom is from the Midwest (baked goooooods!...and she's isn't).
