The Muse of Strings: A Photo Essay
The strings, resonating from the hairs of the bow, enhance the vibrations of the violin as I start to play my audition piece. My dreams, my passion, all poured into one final song to show my progression. The pain and suffering launched at me to destroy my hopes and dreams were finally coming to an end.
Starting my journey as a violinist in middle school, I was filled with inspiration and excitement to learn the violin. Ever since I was little I adored the violinists in my favorite animations and movies and always wanted to be like them. Their passion, and elegance thrown into their music was inspiring and motivating. I wanted to be that person.
“Mom! Look at Kaori go! She’s so amazing I can’t wait to …show more content…
Hailyn, attempted to teach me the starting positions of my violin. “Brendan, start by putting your chin onto the chin rest of your violin with the shoulder rest on and place your hands onto the tapes on the neck of the violin” instructed my teacher. I tried and tried many times, but with my tiny hands the tone arising from my violin was never on par with those in my class. The clock kept ticking, faster and faster, as the students around me began to come to a realization of how to use the basic positions. I, however, with my shy, taciturn personality was suspended in time all alone. Dazed, confused, and helpless. My lack of understanding and help was growing into sadness and …show more content…
How was school? Did your chair test go well?” she asked. “It was meaningless. All the time and effort I put into my music and my violin didn’t matter. I have no chance of becoming an amazing violinist there’s nothing I can do. No matter how much I try it always leads to the same result, failure.” I ran into my room and shut everyone out around me, I was bitter and depressed. (*)
That night I did not eat. I laid down on my bed in the dark, desolate and silent. My mom opened my door blinding my eyes with the bright lights from the hallway and sat down next to my bed. She rubbed my back as she began to confide in me.
“Brendan, I understand why you feel sad and depressed. But, one chair test has no meaning in the scheme of a lifetime. The amount of time spent working away at your violin cannot be wasted just because you do not meet your own standards. You are still young and youthful and the work you put into your violin cannot go to waste just yet. Take time to find meaning in your
The strings, resonating from the hairs of the bow, enhance the vibrations of the violin as I start to play my audition piece. My dreams, my passion, all poured into one final song to show my progression. The pain and suffering launched at me to destroy my hopes and dreams were finally coming to an end.
Starting my journey as a violinist in middle school, I was filled with inspiration and excitement to learn the violin. Ever since I was little I adored the violinists in my favorite animations and movies and always wanted to be like them. Their passion, and elegance thrown into their music was inspiring and motivating. I wanted to be that person.
“Mom! Look at Kaori go! She’s so amazing I can’t wait to …show more content…
Hailyn, attempted to teach me the starting positions of my violin. “Brendan, start by putting your chin onto the chin rest of your violin with the shoulder rest on and place your hands onto the tapes on the neck of the violin” instructed my teacher. I tried and tried many times, but with my tiny hands the tone arising from my violin was never on par with those in my class. The clock kept ticking, faster and faster, as the students around me began to come to a realization of how to use the basic positions. I, however, with my shy, taciturn personality was suspended in time all alone. Dazed, confused, and helpless. My lack of understanding and help was growing into sadness and …show more content…
How was school? Did your chair test go well?” she asked. “It was meaningless. All the time and effort I put into my music and my violin didn’t matter. I have no chance of becoming an amazing violinist there’s nothing I can do. No matter how much I try it always leads to the same result, failure.” I ran into my room and shut everyone out around me, I was bitter and depressed. (*)
That night I did not eat. I laid down on my bed in the dark, desolate and silent. My mom opened my door blinding my eyes with the bright lights from the hallway and sat down next to my bed. She rubbed my back as she began to confide in me.
“Brendan, I understand why you feel sad and depressed. But, one chair test has no meaning in the scheme of a lifetime. The amount of time spent working away at your violin cannot be wasted just because you do not meet your own standards. You are still young and youthful and the work you put into your violin cannot go to waste just yet. Take time to find meaning in your