Playing the piano is the toughest, most rewarding, most frustrating, most cathartic thing there is out there for me. I cannot explain the exhaustion that I experience after sitting downstairs for three hours, working out a piece.
But when I finally get it - when all the notes and dynamics come together - there is such a sense of pride and accomplishment.
As of now, I am stuck in the "working-it-out" phase of playing a song - one that is quite a bit higher difficulty than I'm used to. It would be super useful if I could actually read bass clef, but I'm going to take a beginners piano class with Rachel next spring. Hopefully all will go well with that. I'm afraid it'll just be a class about posture and all that jazz, which can't hurt. Learning chord progression would be useful. Abby's got that down amazingly. She's amazing.
I love Abby a lot.
My 100 page screenplay is due in a week and half. Eeek! Hopefully all the "wonderful" pages I wrote before can cover up for the rushed, terribly horrifying end. Jeff said that, so far, I can do no wrong. Oh, how wrong he is. Oh, how so very very wrong.
It'll be okay. It's just the end of world, pun completely intended.
In other news, I have been a ridiculously good mood all week long
You could tell, couldn't you?
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