Monday, November 7, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
with those silent and wafting movements
that characterized her.
Unnoticeably, she walked off his side,
like the passing of the years...
Only in her absence
is when he started to appreciate her"
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
Since I can remember, I don’t remember myself in any other way but loving music.
My mom is a real music lover as well, I remember how the music was always playing in my house since I was a kid.
Normally, it would be classical music. Artists like Mozart or Vivaldi were living up the mornings. There were also other types of music being played, but not as often (or at least that is my impression). Spanish music from the 80’s, international music from the 70’s or 80’s, the infamous Franco Batiato…
I remember when I was in my first years of life and I was in love with the music of Luis Cobos and Mecano; all thanks of, course, to my mom’s influence.
Music represents my inspiration, the air that I breathe, the emotions that I don’t know or I can’t express, the beat of my heart, feelings that I’ve kept or that I still keep during many years and that I can’t and I don’t want to share. When I listen to music, I share these feelings in silence. I could say that, probably, the only true love that I will meet in this life is the one I found in the music.
Each melody, each verse, note or sound floods me, bringing me to far worlds where everything that surrounds me is beautiful, magic and where I feel wholly happy. It allows me to forget the current problems, enhances my creativity, activates my stamina and my courage to do things and to improve, to pursue the happiness, it alters my perception by making me see only the nice and good things that I encounter on my day, makes me flow tears that I forgot how to or I forced myself to forget how to shed, the music touches my soul lifting it up the Plato’s souls’ world.
Remember when I got my first piano. It was quite expensive back then, but I think is the only present that I will be able to remember my whole life with such great detail.
When I arrived home, I was extremely nervous, I stared at it during a long time and I didn’t dare to touch it for a good while.
It is or it was a very sophisticated keyboard, with several applications and that. But I couldn’t bother with those technical functions. When finally got the bravery to touch the first key I couldn’t believe that that perfect sound was after being created by me, with my own hands!
I started practising, nobody was teaching, I was learning by myself. I remember that I used to practise and practise until early in the morning. I used to set targets to myself, such playing certain amount of songs without making a mistake. I was starting the whole thing again everytime I was playing the wrong note. And like this, over and over again until I was falling asleep.
My right wrist has a malformation and used to hurt me when I was overusing the hand, but I kept playing regardless the pain.
I never dared to ask about getting piano lessons, not because I thought my parents wouldn’t pay them but because I was afraid to fail, afraid to not to be good enough and realise about it. That would have implied a big impact in my life, on top of not being able to assimilate that I could of being destroying songs for so long.
Now I have the opportunity to undertake lessons, but I still can’t manage it. I still feel panicking about not being able of doing properly
For the time being, I feel satisfied with breathing, eating, drinking and dreaming about music. Filling my days with music notes of different shades and colors.
Perhaps, in one of those notes I find the courage to pursue my most wished dream.