A Promised Post

Okay, so I know I said I would write yesterday. Well, I my words were a challenge to myself, not a promise to anyone else. But even though I did not write yesterday, I do not consider the day a failure. Rather than writing, I decided to spend time with my wonderful sister, Stephanie. Seeing as she lives in a different city, the opportunities that we have to see each other are much more rare than my opportunities to write.

The story for my Elgar piece is going to take a little more finesse than I originally thought. So rather than writing it on blogger, I am going to use my handwritten journal to compose the short work. When it is perfected, I will post it here.

Today I succeeded in completing the novel The Spanish Bow. It is a wonderful story about a boy who receives an unlikely and unexpected gift of a cello bow. The bow marks the boy's fate, and although he starts his career as a young musician on the violin, he is immediately drawn to the cello at his first experience of hearing the melodious instrument. My favorite part of the novel is when he goes to his first classical concert. The featured musician is a pianist, but the boy's ear is devoted to the cellist. The pianist gives him the opportunity to play his violin for the professional musicians backstage when the concert is over. The boy is left in such a state of awe at the cello, he picks up his violin and begins to play, realizing only after he sees everyone laughing that he is holding his violin like a cello. I remember when I used to be so in love with my instrument. I've never been one for practicing, but I would play things that I already knew, at least, just because I loved the sound. Where has that excitement gone? Where is that thrill that I used to get from the privilege of playing such a soulful instrument? The narrator of The Spanish Bow says that the cello has the most human-like voice of any instrument. I believe whole-heartedly that it not only sounds the most like a person, but it is the most capable of producing the emotions that we feel. I suppose I am a bit biased, but of any solo instrument, I have never felt another take me through such a wide range of emotions. I need to rekindle that old flame. Hopefully this novel and the book I have about the cellist Jacqueline DuPres will act as the sparks that I need to get the fire started.

For tonight, I must say adieu. Laundry awaits me, as do such things as Pumpkin Ice Cream and Chocolate Chips.

Blogging and Other Such Thoughts

I am new to Blogger. I used to use livejournal, but it's been a long time and I figure it's best to start with something new.

Where to begin? I used to be a creative person. I know I still am; I still have Creativity hidden in some corner of my soul. For reasons of which I am unaware, she got tucked away in the shadows there, and now she is too afraid to come out. My writings in my journal have been somewhat less than thrilling. I often give a straight, flavorless account of my day. I relay the facts by telling, not showing. Well, it is now time for a change. In both my online blog and my handwritten journal, I am going to make a decided effort to bring Creativity out of her hiding place, be it through enticement, encouragement or sheer force.

So, here's to a new beginning. Tomorrow's task: write again! I plan to write a story to go along with the cello concerto I'm learning, I should start with that tomorrow. The piece will help my Creativity, and the story will help my interpretation of the piece when I play it. But now it is midnight, and I must to bed. Farewell, good bloggers, and goodnight.