Monday, September 03, 2007
it's all about music, and more.
It's been a blast to the past, really. All brought about by music, incidentally. BBC Proms, Verdi, Paul van Dyk, and Schubert. I'm listening to Winterreise now, and it makes me feel as if I want to, or should, cry, but I don't. Today, I had to play a whole list of pieces for my Mother's pleasure, songs which no self-respecting musician will ever admit to even knowing. I wondered for the umpteen time - if my piano could speak, what will he say about being born an instrument, and used (and abused) as such? To suffer the likes of Richard Clayderman must be a traumatic experience for anyone, much less my piano, but my mum really liked them. The esoteric wonders of the world. As long as somebody smiles at the end of the day, it's fine. Although there's really no accounting for taste, I suppose. I should remember that not everyone digs Verdi, and I haven't the slightest clue why not. :)
she procrastinated @ 01:27 |
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