Piano

     I had my very first piano lesson when I was six years old. Since then I've been taking piano (somewhat) steadily for eight years. (Feels like longer than eight years.) Until recently I used the same forest-green music binder for that long. But I took nearly-detached front and back covers as a sign that I should upgrade. So my current music had a change of environment, probably for the better.
     Side Note: My most recent favorite of my current pieces is Felix Mendelssohn's Rondo Capriccioso. I've only learnt around two pages of it, but it's delightful. (What a name--Felix Mendelssohn.)
     Practicing piano is usually a positive experience for me. It relaxes me and puts me in a good mood. It empowers me...usually. Then there are the days that I just can't get it right, and I'm exasperated and leave the piano bench in a huff. It's frustrating sometimes: Hands alone. Metronome excruciatingly slow. You can't mess this up. And then somehow I manage to do it wrong. How? Who knows? So I try it again: Hands alone. Metronome even slower. You can do it...probably. Sometimes it works, and I play the measure correctly. Triumphant, I try it again. Not so great this time. Alright, back to hands alone. 
     Luckily for me, my piano teacher is one of the loveliest people I know.
     "Mrs. Gerdes, I didn't practice this one very much this week..."
     "Alright, work on it next week."
     My older sister is an amazing pianist, and she is in college for music education. I think she'll be a wonderful teacher. I would want her to direct my school choir. She and I sometimes talk about playing and learning piano music. I realized recently that I can no longer imagine not being able to sit down and play a song. I also realized that I subconsciously play melodies that are stuck in my head on my air piano (aka my lap). I wonder if that's normal...