lost

Two lessons:

1. When you're feeling down, capitalize on it. Play sad pieces as dramatically as you would if it were the end of the world, and your audience will be blown away.


2. Play carillon demonstrations at the Beiaardschool for German-speaking tour groups. To my shame, I gave in my exhaustion my worst perforamnce ever for a tour group, and two people had 5 € tips each ready for me the moment I got off the bench. I don't know if they were from Eupen or Germany or Austria or what, but whoever they were, they were very, very kind. One of the tippers took a photo of me as I was unlocking my bike outside, as if I was some kind of big deal. It had never even occured to me that constantly rendering such a musical service would merit a tip. Quelle idée!

I don't understand why I feel so discouraged. My deadlines are leaving a cloud of doom hanging over me at all times, and I'm not at the level I wanted to reach by the time of my final exam. Of course I missed two months to being trapped in the hell of my room with a cracked femur, of course I've been insanely busy with academic pursuits. But I cannot explain to myself why my playing is still short of perfect. How I dare expect myself to be superhuman I also cannot explain.

Even the highest compliment from someone I admire as much as Geert doesn't seem to affect me. When I replayed my Adagietto after his comments, he was amazed and had nothing more to say about it. I could barely manage a half-sincere smile. Why am I my own harshest judge?

Apparently he didn't finish his compositions until the day before his final exam--and he still graduated with great distinction (with the same score as Sally)! Not that I except myself or any other human being to be able to pull off the same stunt. But maybe I just want to hear from him that I'm ready, and we both know that according to our standards, that's not true.

Or maybe all I need is an end to this time of month and some godforsaken sunlight. Oh, and a lift of bandwidth limits.