Current Mood: Pensive
Nostalgia
When you've given up something, and you don't realize how important it was to you...until you see something, or hear something or even smell something that reminds of it.
And then that feeling hits you.
The sour taste, that rests not upon your tongue, but rather inside of you, that twists and tangles the very core of you.
No, I'm not talking about missing the love of my life.
You see, all this was brought on by an anime...yes a Japanese animation.
Nodame Cantabile
An anime based around music.
Now, even though I obtained my grades when I was quite young, I was only mediocre on the piano, I was never one that could sight-reading. Music never came to me like that. I had to sit down and practice bar after bar, even though my mind rushed towards playing through the whole piece. My limited patience probably didn't help with practicing either. I was also pushed towards learning the piano, and I for one, never really liked anything that was forced upon me. Hence I picked up percussion in my high school days. To my ultimate dismay, I discovered that rhythm did not come to me easily either. However, my participation in orchestras and musicals kept me from giving up on percussion. Yet, when I finished my schooling and found that my lack of time for practice and lack of instruments to practice on, hindered any improvement and promoted if anything - deterioration in skills, I gave up all together. I was too embarrassed to continue. Especially since there were so many people that were better than me. I felt intimidated.
I gave it all up.
But that anime brought back so many memories...
It brought back my love of music.
My fingertips yearn for the cool touch of ivory. My hands itch to dance across the keyboard, and my eyelids are heavy, as if it's already remembering what it feels like to close and become lost in the melodies of the past.
I want to feel alive. One of my favourite sounds is the sound of an orchestra tuning. I want to feel exhilarated, standing under the bright lights, behind my 4 timpani, mallets in my hand, hearing the low vibrato that rumbles beneath all the other sounds. And If I close my eyes, I can feel the rebound of the mallet after striking a note, I can feel my fingers spreading then applying pressure on the timpani skin, muffling any echoes.
Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff, Chopin, Schubert, Stravinsky, Orff,....hell, even stereotypically classical Mozart.
Nostalgia...
