Grandfather Clocks and A Cappella

Recently I've become aware of my life as represented by a metaphor of a musical pendulum. My grandparents have a huge old wooden grandfather clock with a hypnotic brass pendulum right in the middle. At quarter-past, half-past, and quarter-of the hour, it completes 1 quarter, 2 quarters, or 3 quarters, respectively, of a pleasant refrain which is only heard in its entirety on the hour. It is followed at that time by those obnoxious gong sounds which sometimes woke me up at night when I was little.

I started playing violin 11 years ago. I haven't stopped. This whole pendulum thing didn't exist until less than a year ago, when I started thinking I could sing and people started telling me I could sing and I thought, gosh, why not give that a try? Until January, 4 strings were all I knew. I lived and breathed those 4 strings every day and soon, even though I stopped practicing so diligently, they became my best therapists, my worst enemies, and my ever-goading challenges.

This past Thursday I had a scary thought that began to convince me of the changing direction of the giant pendulum of my music. It was the evening of GU orchestra auditions. I've been in the orchestra for the pats 2 semesters, so my place wasn't in jeopardy, and my level of preparation more or less reflected that. Still, I felt completely comfortable in that tiny room with interim director Popov as I played Melodie from memory for the millionth time since 8th grade, and I sightread some nonsense in 3/8 by Haydn.

I left feeling empty, as if I had just wasted 15 minutes with my violin and I felt guilty, I felt trapped. I felt like whatever I had played was maybe beautiful, but not interesting, and certainly not freeing. I was actually happy to be rushing off to a cappella rehearsal for the 4th time that week. And then I thought it:

"I would rather sing than play anyway."

GASP.

Typing it is even more frightening than thinking it.

I guess maybe I'll see if I can do anything to take violin in the same freeing direction as singing is for me. I guess I'll see if I can begin to remember how to lose myself in the violin as I lose myself when I sing. Stay tuned. I will too.