Dear world, dear self,
I have not felt such a strong urge to write in a long time. It is 1:10 AM in beautiful San Francisco, and I am sitting in front of my newly acquired computer with a cup of aromatic chamomile tea, desiring not to rest but to write. The only reason, for the first time in my life I believe, is that from the depth of my being I have a need to write again.
I has taken me, up to today, 3 weeks to finally believe that I am in San Francisco, enrolled in a chamber music program and doing what I have always been so passionate to do. It in itself is truly a wonder, for which I have always been so in awe and so grateful.
Today was just another day. Yet, with all the musical ideas I have received from my lesson on Op.110, it felt like I’m probing into a distant memory. Closer to understanding a vast inner world, and thus living a different present reality. In the past week, the amount of coachings I have received was overwhelming, and I think if I do not try to straighten them up every day or so, they will be all cluttered and useless.
I have begun to observe that the older we grow, there seems to be more of a desperate need to simplify. Simplify the shaping of a phrase, the observing of a harmonic change, and our way of experiencing.
I am afraid that I must say goodnight now.