I know, I have been terribly remiss and absent from writing my cello blogs, and for that I am so very sorry! But I have very good reason, I promise! For the last week, I have been doing repairs and improvements on my house, and giving it some much needed attention! I have made more trips to the home improvement store in the past week than I have made in YEARS. Unfortunately, my beloved Julian sat, neglected, in his case for nearly the entire week. I would stare longingly at him, but I also needed to get so much done.
But, there's an upside...
The week away from my cello has allowed my hands to return to a more relaxed state, so my pain is gone, aside from the occasional twinge as a reminder to stay relaxed when I get overly tense while working on a passage. It has allowed my body to forget some bad habits and begin to learn the new ones a bit better. It has been an overall good thing for me physically, but once again, it has taken a toll on my emotional status.
You would never think that a simple week away from playing music would have so much effect on a person that it would be outwardly visible. Neither did I, until Thursday.
Warning: Tangent ahead....
Julian had gone to the shop, I'd sold my Shen cello, and my backup cello was returned for a cracked neck, and the new one had not yet arrived. I found myself almost cello-less.... and had it not been for a wonderful section-mate in orchestra, I would have been without an instrument. Wayne knew that I would be without a cello due to the circumstances, and had offered to loan me one of his cellos a week before the renovations began. He brought one to my house and ensured that I would have a cello to play while mine were all gone.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog...
Thursday came, and I packed up Wayne's cello and my bow, and tucked it in the back seat of my car and drove up to orchestra rehearsal. We played some difficult repertoire, but it was coming much easier, and I felt more relaxed that night. The music came to my soul, and my orchestra director looked at me before starting rehearsal and said, "I love the intensity on your face while you're playing. You're really into that music." I laughed, but I said to myself, You have no idea... I needed the music, as much as it needed to be played. Have you ever felt that way? Like it was going to burst out of you on its own if you didn't play it?
We went on into rehearsal, and played through many of our more difficult pieces, and as much as I dreaded messing up from not playing, I did much better than I originally expected. Wayne had also let me try his larger-bodied cello, made of absolutely gorgeous curly maple. The bridge was very much flatter than I was used to, so I had some unintended double stops, but it was still quite a pleasure to play, and I enjoyed myself, even though I missed my Julian terribly (my car isn't really big enough to fit TWO cellos well). During the infamous Elgar variation, I hadn't heard Wayne. At the end, he told me I'd carried the soli section on my own, and I was overjoyed. It wasn't perfect, but it was good. I had done it, and even on a cello I had never played!
We wrapped up rehearsal and I returned Wayne's cello to him, thanking him graciously for allowing me to not only borrow one, but to allow me to try the other one out during rehearsal. We had all the usual after-rehearsal conversation, discussing the upcoming concert, what we were working on in our respective lessons, and what plans we had for the week. We talked all the way out to the car as we usually do, and since it was warm, we lingered and chatted. But with all the home repairs, running around gathering parts, and a grueling rehearsal, eventually my tiredness won out and I got in my car, exhausted, and drove away from the school where we rehearse.
I drove out to the highway to head home, and found myself crying... not just crying, but sobbing. I had no reason to cry. It had been a good rehearsal, with a good cello and good company. My hands didn't hurt, and it wasn't raining. Yet, there I was, driving down the road in shambles. I pulled myself together briefly, and then fell apart again. What is wrong with me?! Then, it hit me... I had missed being in the middle of the music. I was crying because of relief, joy, and peace. I needed the time to reconnect with my music, and with my self. I needed to feel the notes and rhythms winding through my soul, reawakening me. "Me time."
Return, my heart.... as I am, once again, reminded that... #celloislife
Happy Cello'ing!
