Familiarity breeds contempt.
When I see musicians, specifically pianists, make facial expressions, move their bodies in an awkward manner, and move their hands in unnecessary manners, I want to puke.
When I hear my piano teacher say, "No! That's not right! You have to play it this way!"I want to say "Fuck off, Bitch, ever heard of free interpretation?"
I feel like I need to finish this off with three more sentences in regards to the five senses, but I'd probably get ruder and ruder.
Someone should finish it off.
Heh.
I've spent a full weekend, a wednesday, and soon tomorrow, [attempting to] record perfect renditions of a Beethoven sonata and a Chopin Ballade so that I can get into the conservatory at San Fran and Juilliard to no avail. I'm in despair! Why can't anything be perfect!? Why can't I be perfect!? Why do I constantly have to make a mistake during a recording!? It's not fair. I'm praying that somehow, God will have pity on me and grant me godliness for an hour too...or drugs. If I'm on drugs, I will no longer worry about making mistakes and I will be perfect.
But when you think about it, drugs solve everything. They solve war, crime, social awkwardness, depression--it's the perfect solution, except you lose brain cells and your intelligence, if it matters.
I should really work on apps. Almost one down, two more to go. Just need to work on that statement...
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