YEs, really
By the wayā¦
Ventingā¦
Nothing too seriousā¦Itās just that I always feel like thereās one piece missingā¦ This time itās my violin. Iāve spent hours and hours and hours practicing in the pastā¦
[I had auditioned for violin performance when I was 17, to study in college, in one of the best music schools in the US, shortly after 2.5 years of picking it up(I donāt know what I was thinkingā¦ but I became good really fast and my teacher pushed me to the improbable), btw, I wasnāt accepted, but anyhowā¦ it was a respectable effortā¦
Then life brought me for 3 months to another violin teacher in Thessaloniki (during my āstudy abroadā period - in my home townā¦ :rolleyes:). He had mentioned once that he admired everything I did seriously (painting, architecture, tennis and track), but playing the violin was the most difficult thing I did well, and quitting it would be a sinā¦ I donāt know why music teachers were always afraid of me quittingā¦ instinct? ]
My teacher in the US had told me several times that if I quit in the future he would come out of his tomb and hit me on the head with the instrument (how wistful, but true).
There is always too little time. And too many desires and NEEDS to fulfill.
I was telling Dejan the other day that I am thinking of trying out being a polyphasic (=āhaving several periods of activity interrupted by intervening periods of rest in each 24 hoursā. This is done by adapting the cyrcadian rhythm so there is a total of 2 hours rest in each 24 hours, usually split in 3 intervals (of 40ā sleep each). Studies have shown that even athletes have benefited from this kind of adaptation. I donāt have the details. But it sounds crazy enough to consider!
I need more time to do everything, and I need time to practice my violin again. I am missing out on music, and my favorite sound in the worldā¦ Not just hearing itā¦ but also producing itā¦ Itās more than I can explain.
Iāve gone through many dilemmas of decision making in my life, Iāve gone through phases where I would rather practice my violin at ANY given time, in sacrifice of playing tennis (which I did seriously back then and truly enjoyed). Then things always shifted, my teacher died, I lost motive, desires switched, adrenaline took different forms, string ensembles crumbled, fingers rusted.
Playing that requested and promised piece at my teacherās funeral was the last serious effort of that sweet and intense period of life where reality took another form of musical existence.
I know painting does the same. And training also. Even reading. And having a profound and quick-witted conversation.
Why is it that we want it all?
And to me right now, a Stef-chunk is missing.
And on top of that, I miss Dejannnn !!! :o