3:20 p.m. - Tuesday, Nov. 10, 2009
Here, the wind.
Some days are slow motion days. I've had this experience twice in the past two weeks. Last week, I was slow and deliberate - and it felt good. I felt alive. Everything felt purposeful. Today, I felt heavy. I'm forcing myself to feel excited about the music I'm playing. But it feels so empty. It's really hard to practice and try to memorize something that doesn't feel like anything. I was sitting at the bench, playing the piece over and over again - trying to pick out patterns and cues that would help me . . .but numbers kept popping into my head. How many minutes have I been here? How many hours until the next thing I have to do? How many things do I need to accomplish before tomorrow? How many days until the performance? How many weeks can I put off acknowledging that this is really happening?
I analyze myself onto the ledge and then I start to panic at the thought of falling off.
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