I had resigned myself to not worry about practicing for today. I have what feels like a million things to accomplish, and not yet through half of them, but as always the piano seems to call....or maybe it is more of a nagging text message today. Sitting at a table, a few others near by, I take a moment to imagine what I could work on. The sun is out today, and something lighthearted feels appropriate. It is very quiet here, and while that feels liberating in a practice room here it feels confining.
Taking a brief moment to look through my bag I see the options before me. Beethoven's sonatas, Chopin polonaises and waltzes, Barber early works, and Bach Toccatas. I have my duty to all this music, with a solo recitals starting in January, and feel a very heavy responsibility to the pieces the are within these volumes.
Beethoven feels nothing but dangerous today, with his endless introspective wanderings and metaphysical puddles that I must go through before I can attain any sort of "happiness." Even within the pages of his tender Op. 78 F sharp major sonata do these trappings lie. I get it Beethoven, you are asking yourself why, and would like me to do the same. If I play this piece today, it will assuredly sound good to my ear, but this is really only a self-delusion as I get to ignore the real difficulty found in this short two movement work. I will have to face these difficulties to play the piece true to Beethoven's intent, but F sharp is not feeling to friendly today.
Speaking of F-sharp, I find myself paging through the dark, and sometimes bleak Polonaise Op. 44. Whose powerful octaves hang over me, pulling me along in it's relentless power. Power that today I do not feel I have, and would only be dragged through the mud. Even the slow mazurka section feels like more delusion of the deathly march patterns that came just a page before.
It all boils down that some days I need to hear my mother's voice in my head, reminding me that I need to practice. My inner child will quickly reply with "just a few more minutes of (insert facebook, videogames, or tv...pick your poison). Though if I have time to formulate an inner child, maybe I should formulate some inner beer.
