Remembering...
A bit of a fore-warning, I'm going to be long-winded, and I don't expect or need anyone to read this, but I can't stop thinking about it, so I think it's best that I just write it down, and I suppose this is as good a place as any. I'm back, after a pretty incredible week. In a lot of ways it was excessively dramatic, but the beautiful aspects outweighed the negatives entirely. I sat for two hours last night, my final night, with the other three vocalists, our pianist, and our coach, deep in philosophical discussion. This brilliant man, a teacher at Philips-Exeter in NH, understood me more and connected with me more than I think anyone has in so few hours of not only hearing me, but watching me sing and interact with the musicians around me. We were all sitting around last night, waiting for rehearsal to begin, and he walked in to the church (purchased by two artists who are converting it into a gorgeous home) where we practiced for the week, and told us not to stand up, but instead to relax and just sit with him. It was like being swept back into history when people who loved their art could sit around in parlours for hours together and just talk together about religion, politics, humanity, culture, pyschology, or anything else that crept its way into the moment, or in this case, hours. I've always wondered about how that might have felt for those people, but I couldn't fully understand because the possibility of it seemed so foreign. After last night, I know more than ever why I love music. I don't think I could ever describe what went on in that sanctuary, but I can say that there were moments when I could hardly speak or keep my eyes open because I was so overwhelmed with the wisdom of this teacher. And I've never felt so respected and understood as I did just then, while we sat there being so honest and free to say whatever we wanted to say. At one point, early on, he asked us to rate our high school experiences, and everyone gave their 7's and 8's, and when it came to me I told him that my freshman and sophomore years were 10 and 9 but that this last year would probably drop the average to a 6 or maybe 7. I didn't really say anything else, or explain why at that point, but George just sort of looked into my eyes for a really long time, until I felt like he knew everything that went on this last year without me having to explain. He would turn his glance to the other girls, in a much lighter way, but it kept coming back to me, and I knew why, and I kind of had a peace come over me that I haven't felt since before I got drawn into the petty, ridiculous world of typical high school girls so many months ago. Without me saying anything about this year, he just knew, and more than that, he cared. To the other girls who were with me, I don't know if it meant quite as much at this point, but he started to talk a lot about psychology, and he talked about how people lash out at the things they hate in themselves, but because it's not in human nature to be suicidal, they hurt others instead. I thought about what he said in terms of the last year. Interesting how a person with a terrible relationship with their mother could hate someone else who has an amazing relationship with their mom...how a person who yearns for attention from teachers, fellow students, and anyone will give it would hate a person who doesn't ask for that attention but gets it for whatever reason, how a person who pretends to be happy could hate someone who really is happy... and it was because of Mr. Lopez that so much suddenly made sense. I don't want to go back to Messalonskee this year at all, mostly because I feel like I'm out of place there quite a lot, but I'm going to go back for this last year in a really strange stage of my life, and I'm going to be happy, with Jon and with Lyzie and Michelle and Lauren and Tim, and the people who have never stopped making me smile through all of this. Tonight was so hard, thinking about the next year while leaving behind Rockport and this world of music that is my favorite place to be, but being with Jon and thinking through it all was so good. I felt sad for those people who will never understand the world I love so much, instead of hurt for myself because of their lashing out at me. I think it was really the first time that I had peace. God works in mysterious ways. I'll say it all of my life and believe it more and more. He spoke to me through a man who has entirely different religious beliefs than I do, but who lives and breathes just like me, and who respects teenagers like all of us who sat there together, each being forced to remember whatever it was we had tucked away. By sitting there, listening and offering our own insights, each of us was able to conclude things for ourselves. He told us of his frustrations with the world and how he felt so incapable of making an immediate impact on so many terrible situations that exist, and how he felt a guilt for being so ignorant to it all as a musician, often losing himself in song and failing to remember the atrocities around the world. I heard him talk about it and thought how I understood, but also how I feel that that is the very reason why artists are so important, and especially musicians. He talked about how overseas Americans are disliked so much in so many places, and how he's faced a lot of this in his world travels, particularly since the war started. In response I talked about a bit I'd read in Renee Fleming's book, "The Autobiography of My Voice," where she described how she was warned about the opposition she would face going to Russia, and how cruel the people over there were to Americans, but how when she got there the people embraced her, instead, finding that she, as a musician, had taken the time to learn about their culture, study their language and their music so that she could do justice to them when she took their stage as a lead in a great Russian opera...and they loved her for it. It was because of her art that politics were forgotten for a while, and she was not categorized as an "American" but as a person...a remarkable person. Anyway, for a girl who needed that without knowing it, the whole night was one of the most amazing of my life.