Tonight I went to orchestra practice. I was so tired, and didn't want to go, but routine and perseverence, guilt and good training got me out the door. I had not been able to attend last week's practice, being that I had just returned late on my birthday from the Redwoods. I had a friend/co-worker/french horn player receive the new music and she presented it to me at school the next day. Dark Curly Locks isn't fearlessly leading us for the next concert - I'm sure he has a meeting in Germany or something. So the next guy in line sent bowings via a dropbox on the internet, and notes for practicting, such as: "the sixteenth notes after U in the last movement are probably not playable...." That's encouraging! As I write this, we cellists just received another note from him regarding next week's sectional rehearsal. Well, not a note, but a highly detailed letter, I'd say, with more instructions about practicing. What is cute in this missive is that he says, "Since we don't have to give time to Nick to arrive from Palo Alto, we'll begin at 7:15. We'll work until 9:30, unless Naomi offers us cookies or something, and then we might stay a few extra minutes." Ha! See, food wins over all!
I'm consistently anxious about orchestra, and I did get in some practice this week, but the music for this next concert is very tough. One of the first things the director said as we went through a Ralph Vaughan Williams piece tonight was, "I don't care what notes you play, just play them in the right place!" I can do that! I'm great with rhythm! That tells you the difficulty of that piece, and that comment made me feel a heck of a lot better about myself. So we all slogged through happily, really. Orchestra is the only time during the week that I forget everything, and I'm content and distracted and happy. So this thing I get anxious over, is really a godsend.
So I'll practice some more, and maybe Naomi will serve cookies.
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