Yeah, I know. I think I now qualify as a negligent blogger.
I realized today that playing the piano is something like exercise for me, or it purges the same part of my soul that exercise purges. Maybe not exactly the same, and there’s something that music adds that exercise doesn’t have. I played the piano this afternoon when I was tired and stressed, and realized when I was done that I felt the same blessed emptiness I sometimes feel after a run. That’s both really cool and a little weird.
Music is so expressive. I have one song that I really like to play over and over and over again (Bergmuller’s Agitato), and I can express so much with it, both in a single playing, and in playing it over and over again different ways. I can finally remember it well enough (most of the time), that I can actually play with dynamics. I feel like I’m discovering music, like something awakened in me that could play it, and that could play with it–something that I either didn’t have access to before, or that I didn’t think I had, or something like that. And it’s exciting, when I can play with it and not expect myself to be perfect or even to be good. I think, overall, if I had to choose, I’d rather be able to play with it.