J. Barrett

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Music in remission

I grew up playing the piano, with music as a part of my life before I understood it, before I really knew what it meant to me. Now that I think I do, it's out of my life. I listen to music, and attend concerts every now and then, but I don't have a program anymore. I play when I'm at my parents houses, because they have pianos. It's to entertain, and to be sure that I still can. It's like speaking a language you've forgotten you know. It's like I'm speaking in a tongue from a past life; it feels like something that's not a part of me, not anymore.
I want to return to practice, to study, but my life has become so full with other things that I haven't the time for it. That is, I don't have the space in my life for it; I could certainly find a few hours a week, were I really motivated.
When I played, it was another task, another chore, which I enjoyed, the impact of which I was unaware. It was a way to get out of my head, to do something which wasn't about me, about the image I was trying to project, but was about the music, was about channeling the composer and the period, learning by successive approximations, over months and months, how to play to the peak of my potential.
It's something I want to have in my life again. I think it may be in another season.

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