Thursday, March 4, 2010

Night before.

I wish I was a violinist. I could bring my instrument anywhere, practice whenever I want. I'm getting antsy. Listening and mental practice help, but I'm still terrfied.

Drove by myself, in a rental car, two hours there, one hour back. No map, GPS and phone batteies both on low. The phone is what I really needed, to talk to anyone. Instead, I talk to the GPS machine.
Turn right on Eagle Rock Drive.
Is it this one?
In point two miles turn right on Passiac Street.
Where is that? Did I miss it?
Stay left.
What? I didn't hear you. Did you know this car has XM Radio?
Stay left.

There are so many highways here. I drove on five today. I'd have to go quite a distance in Washington. There's not enough space here.

It's been awhile since I put myself out there, I guess. I pick at my tights, new ones, of a slick sealskin texture, as if water would roll off in beads. Ten students here. No one else in my program. Three have auditioned already. They take 2 students a year. I make appropriate small talk.

1 comment:

Maddy said...

new tights!!! that's good luck :)

also my security word for this comment is "lickste" which is sort of like a german word, and german anything reminds me of you, so that is a good sign too! :)

come back to me! let's go to the met tomorrow or something