Recital jitters and the outcome...

When I was a 'serious pianist'- meaning I actually practiced for an hour or more every day, ran drills, flew through scales, memorized pages at a time and basically inhaled all the music I could ingest and digest- I would sometimes get compliments on my playing ability. The words "I really enjoyed your playing" were like Nectar of the Gods to me. And they seemed to happen pretty consistently. Which was nice. And clearly, I was not a terrible pianist, but it's nice and somehow validating to have those remarks made to you by complete strangers, instead of by your parents who HAVE to listen to you:)

So, when I was a real musician, I enjoyed the occasional confidence boost.

Then I had a family, house, groceries, school, kiddos, church- to sum it up, a LIFE. And somehow, practicing took the back seat to things like dr. appointments for the baby and millions of loads of laundry or else we'd all be naked the next day.

Then my parents gave me a piano for christmas a few years ago. And I've been practicing ever since.

Practicing piano with 2 kids is hard.

James DOES NOT LIKE ME TO PRACTICE, PLAY, PLINK OR EVEN LOOK at the piano while he is within 25 yards of it. And if I have the audacity to just breathe like I want to sit down for 2 minutes to run through a Bach Prelude, he specifically says "no piano." just like that. (although, in his defense, anytime he sees drums, all he wants to do is bang on them for a good half hour- so I guess that's okay, I like drums too.)

Oliver, on the other hand, ADORES the piano. If I am playing while James is at school- which is the only time I am allowed- Oliver wants to play. He wants to play so badly that he will defy death to stretch up on his tippy-top tip-toes with arms stretched as long as possible and his gecko fingers grasping for the keys to keep himself upright. It's quite the gymnastic feat!

Today for example, I sat down at the piano to run through my recital pieces for tonight's performance. Not a full 30 seconds later and Oliver is grasping at my knees and trying desperately to reach the piano keys without falling face first into the floor. So, I pick him up.

He practices for half an hour.

no joke.

Aye-yai-yai.

So, as you can see, preparing to perform anything with any degree of skill is a quest.

Skip to tonight.

Before the recital, I posted on facebook:

Playing in a recital tonight. Nervous enough to barf. Ever see The Cutting Edge? I'll be okay in 10 minutes. My program is only 2.5 minutes long. So, 7.5 minutes after that, I'll be fine.

And that's true. I was shaking nervous.

But sometimes thats a good thing. It makes you pay attention to the music instead of disregarding it and then totally screwing it up like you might be tempted to do if you weren't nervous.

And tonight, it was a good thing. Good enough to get me that coveted comment:

"I really enjoyed watching you play."

From a complete stranger.

I'm not saying all this to brag about my piano skills. They are so sadly in need of repair, they are almost like Napoleon Dynamite bow-hunting-computer-hacking-nunchuck skills.

But for what it's worth to me (and that's a LOT), someone said it because I suspect they might have enjoyed watching me play. And that will always feel good. Validated. Entertained. Appreciated.