won't feel so alone
Click to viewfischoff '09--
sun on a parking lot. our names in the program. deja vu. just being there. J22. rain on a lake; running on gravel. fields of grass and rows of trees. oatmeal from starbucks. laughing until my stomach hurt. playing for an elementary school-- "butterflies, bees, colors, and enchanted birds." waiting and waiting for hours. dancing. the hallowed fischoff traditions of preparation and discovery and knowing what to do; how they finally, finally became a part of my memory, my history. onetwothree arcobaleno. standing backstage in a mess of nerves and excitement. walking onstage in black dresses; the hot thrill of a misshapen spotlight. standing on that stage and feeling the collision of a dream and reality. the way the dry theatre air absorbed our sound; how it existed for us and us alone, melting into a puddle in the center of our quartet formation-- the fifth person of energy. a blank audience; playing because it's only us, all smiles and emotions and belonging. running offstage and collapsing into tears of joy. dinner. midnight frisbee and learning. watching and notes. slipping again-- tears, fear, recovery. an hour-long conversation. sightreading until 4 in the morning. jacqueline dupre. a pancake house. disappointment and happiness. i can't list anymore. it's all a blur.
i loved it there. i miss it so much it hurts.
but i thought this would feel like an ending.
it doesn't.
it feels like a beginning.
the beginning of the rest of my life.
i didn't list the most important thing i learned this weekend--
i am a musician. this is what i want to do.
maybe it will change. it might.
but for now, this is me. i'm not apologizing. i'm excited. i'm free-falling.
i'm free.