You all may have noticed that my blog has been a little... absent as of late. Not as many entries, not as much posting. This is quite simply due to the fact that our family has been effected by the government shutdown going on, and while I won't discuss the politics of it, I will say that it has had a detrimental effect on my cello playing. This is for the simple fact that, for a while, I wasn't sure I would even be able to keep my cello, much less keep up the lessons. I'm honestly still not entirely certain of what will happen in the future, but for now, because of family and church support, I will be able to carry on my lessons at least for the time being. There are many that won't be so lucky, and I'm keenly aware of this. I'm grateful.... but in the interest of complete transparency on my blog, I wanted to let you in on my mindset and my world.
Back at New Years', shortly after my "Do What??" post, I came to the realization that, with no income, my cello playing had the potential to be cut short. At the time, my mother offered to pay for a couple of months of lessons as a Christmas gift to me. I accepted, but refused to cash the check until I knew it could go towards what she wanted it for, even though she said it could be spent elsewhere if I needed it. I informed my cello teacher of what was happening, and he said that he hoped it would end soon, but after I told him I didn't know if I would be able to continue, he offered me a discounted rate on my lessons. I told him I would let him know as things continued to shake out in our budget.
Fast forward a week.... I got a new book of ACTUAL music (not etude books) to practice. My cello continued to sit in his stand, untouched. Unplayed. Unloved.... in a very musically silent house. That's extremely unusual for my home, especially when I get a new book. It usually sounds like the early years of the Juilliard pre-college program in the house because of all the instruments being played. Thursday night came, the night of my Scottish music group, led by my former teacher. I squawked through the first piece, then humbly apologized and told him that I hadn't played more than once that week because of depression and fear that I might have to quit lessons. "That's no reason to stop playing!" he shot back at me, before beginning the next piece... which incidentally had my solo opening, which went exactly as you can imagine.
Friday, I got a good practice session length, but it also went exactly as you can imagine. The tension level has been so high in our house that it's translating into my practice. I put my cello down, took a nice, hot shower, and got some cello music playing on my computer. There it is!! The drive I'd been waiting for finally appeared. I picked up my cello, and finally got a good, productive practice session in. My muscles revolted. They ached and screamed... I stood up, stretched, walked around, got some water, and sat back down. It took a few tries and many, many deep breaths, but I finally got going and found my rhythm, my sound, and my sanity. There were no tears, but when I finished, I sat and just held Julian in my arms. I enjoyed the feel of holding my cello, drawing in the scent of the oil-varnished wood, and feeling the smoothness of the neck under my palm as I ran my hand up and down the length of his neck. I had sorely missed my cello... my lifeblood.
I have a lesson Tuesday night... after which, I'm sure, there will be a new blog post.
Happy Cello'ing! #celloislife