Thoughts on music...

Yesterday, the music school I go to had the end of the year show. In a nice theatre, pretty close to the St. Peter's Cathedral and Via Cola di Rienzo.
I wasn't too nervous, probably also because I was starting to get sick. But of course I was a little worried I could make mistakes once on the stage. I had to play two pieces, both from South-American authors, which I really liked (that's the first requisite in choosing a piece to play: you have to love it, or you'll get sick of playing it over and over again!).
I didn't invite anybody to see me. I wanted to do what everyone that plays for a living does: play in front of a public composed of complete strangers.

So I went there.
Started playing.
I was singing the piece in my head while I was playing, and I was paying attention to the quality of my sound.
And when I was done, the public starte clapping their hands.
It was such a strange feeling, that complete strangers would clap their hands for the music I was playing.
It was so empowering!

After I was done, my teacher (who was on the backstage for all his students) told me - I know you would play anothe piece, if you could!
And it was true.

When going back home, in my car, I started crying.
There were liberating tears, because of all the tension I had accumulated.
But there were tears of joy too.

Because going to music class had been so hard lately, because it was near where I was living with my ex, because I'd meet him around there from time to time and it was so hard, because after class I had to drive one hour back home, and because lately I was really demotivated.

And, while driving, I realized that I had been strong enough to not give up something I loved, in spite of all the difficulties and the general ugliness of the last months.

Can I say - I am proud of myself?
I am not being immodest.
I know I can improuve so much my playing, there is no end.
But I am just so proud I did it.
I went there to play.
And nothing could stop me.