One of my favorite things to do is browse music in music stores. When I was a young girl my mother would take me to a music store in Gary, Indiana. [ I'll have to find it's name stamped in a book]
I would just start looking through the bins of music. After about an hour I would have an armful of books and I couldn't wait until we got home. I recall putting the books on a pile to my left on the piano bench. One by one those books would go up to the music stand. After I finished playing through the book I set it to my right on the piano bench and grabbed the next book on my left side. I wouldn't leave the piano until I had gone through each and every book. It was and still is such an adventure. If I had purchased anything that was a bit too difficult I still managed to make my way through the book. Perhaps I played only my right hand in sections or maybe only parts of some songs.
How can it be that you can read through a page with black and white dots and you are transcended into a [...]
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I have recently added Schumann's "Traumerei" to my repertoire. I love the beauty and the simplicity of this piece.
The melody is so timeless. My absolute most favorite part of the piece is the grace-note pick-up to measure 18.
I begin to play the piece and I'm thinking I can't wait until I get to that grace-note. But wait! I don't want to miss the beauty and the enjoyment of playing the piece so I have to hold back and wait for my most favorite little note.
Why it's the same note with which the piece begins. Why in the world does the same key in measure 17 mesmerize me?
It's inexplainable and perhaps that why it is all the more interesting.
Why do we create music in the first place? Are we a life, a moment in time when we are the medium through which we share feelings? Why is music so powerful anyhow? Why can't I just listen to it and ho-hum go along my merry way and not be affected? Why don't I play the radio in the house? I know why. It is because lots of music distracts me. It overcomes me and makes me listen. What do I hear? What do I feel? Why do I hear what I hear and feel what I feel? Is this the answer to why I have always been so passionate about music and the piano? I thought I was in control here. What is going on? I practice my Chopin and I think [ if someone were listening] that I'd have to say 'pardon me while I go crazy playing this piece'.Yes, and there lies a challenge. You try doing anything you love to do and put a 'cap' on your adrenaline. Yes, I am in control but it is not as easy as it may look.
The idea is the beginning. The idea of writing a song , developing the song and then staying with it until its' completion is really an incredible thing to do. It is like cultivating and watching a seed grow. And then take your product to the market. Today's market has so many places to discover it is mind boggling to think of where you might begin. As is not uncommon with the internet, sometimes you are clicking around so fast you don't remember where you've been. Whoops, I should have had bread crumbs. You ask questions, you keep a journal, you work on your networking skills and you are constantly digging to find the next step. Is it fun? Yes, especially when in exchange for your talent, your love and your passion, your fans are ready to support you and share in your love for music.
How would you feel if your parents immigrated to America with 2 daughters [ 1 only 7 weeks old]? They had no education, no family,no job, no money. What did they have? America was opening the doors to immigrants to give them jobs and a chance to raise their family in a safe environment. A land where they could make choices. A land where they had freedom. They had the Serbian church able to help with some expenses until they could get on their own feet. My mom was seventeen years old the last time she ever saw her mother. I was twenty-three when I lost her. Maybe a close enough distance in years that I could feel her loss . Her mother out-lived her by 35 years but she never was able to see her. We didn't have any aunts , uncles, cousins or any relatives here. They were on their own. How in the world could they raise 4 daughters and send them all to college with no financial aid. The answer is hard work and sacrifice. Steel-Mill hard work. My dad's job changed hours weekly from morning, afternoon [...]
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