Bao's weblog


Meandering thoughts of a Bay Area college student… be prepared for some bipolar vocabulary

Les aspects meurtrier de la pièce d’un piano.

This week has been quite dull. I went to Nam’s house for a birthday party and went left at close to 4, where I had promised to be for another surprise birthday party. Two parties in one day really drained me out. I met a cousin of mine who went to Quimby and I made friends with another girl, who also went to Quimby. And I made friends with yet another girl who goes to a school in Cupertino. It took awhile for me to register this as we sat in one room and I listened to them talk about guys that I was the only guy. I think the heat slows down the way my brain thinks.

I really can’t wait for prom. It’s one big step out of the ordinary for me. I’m actually allowed to stay out as late as I want as long as there’s a limo giving transportation to and from prom. Hopefully we’ll go bowling. The day right after prom is my piano recital where I get the “honor” of closing it. Honor = anxiety/burden in my case. I’ve been a closer in the past and I admit that I wasn’t too hot, so my teacher gave me a break from it for awhile.

I sat back and watched other performers shine and my heart filled sadness and bitterness. When they closed, they closed with elegance, a sense of flair, a sense of professionality… the two times I’ve closed, I was hindered with shaking fingers that’d be a blur even before I touched the ivory keys. I face obstacles that I shouldn’t be facing in the first place, such as sweaty, slippery fingers, a shaking pedal foot, and a voice in my head that verbally abuses me. I think that voice is a defense mechanism, so my hopes never go up.

For me, however, the most dangerous part of a piano recital isn’t the slippery fingers that make you feel like you’re ice skating on nails. It isn’t the shaky right foot that’ll make a piece seem choppy. It’s getting lost. It’s easy to start off well, but when you think you play so well, you get wrapped up in your own magic, and your finger memory will just die on you, resulting in a tumble of notes instantaneously followed by a quick snap out of a bliss reverie into an unpleasant reality. Especially deadly when playing fast.

Anyways, this may be my last recital and I hope I’ll close with just as much elegance, flair, and professionality as the people before me. Don’t wish me luck.

Filed under: General

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