Music, Inspiration, Me

"Pengen les piano lagi, supaya sering-sering dimarahin...karena semakin sering dimarahin, semakin banyak inspirasi yang muncul buat bikin novel tentang pianis yang karirnya jatuh bangun. Ayo kakak, marahin saya lagi."

Inspiration can come from anywhere
It can be from something that you're seeing
It can be from the place where you're currently stepping your feet in.
It can be from the talk you don't mean to listen to
It can be from a blast from the past
It can be from a dream or nightmare
It can be from your own experience
It can be from your own alternate life
It can be from your own wish
It can be from 'what ifs'
It can be from an inspiring quote

Truth is, you can find inspiration. It's everywhere around the corner. All you have to do is just find it, write it down, make it perfect, before it finally becomes a masterpiece.

Just want to share something, after posting that quote on Facebook, that I find inspiration from being yelled at quite often. So I have joined many, many piano lessons that I always find myself failing at. I've met many teachers, young, old and everyone of them treated me the same: that's because I can't read notes, ever since I was 4, the age I joined a piano lesson for the first time. That's why, I always hate piano lessons. Everytime I changed teachers, I always demanded them (yes, demand) that they would understand me and have an EXTREME PATIENCE so that they knew that I was not like any other kids, who could read notes in just quick glances and played the tunes accurately on the piano keys.

I just simply couldn't do that.

I was different, I realized that. Back when I was 4 and joined a children electone music course consisting up to four kids, including me and two of my cousins, I had some bumpy moments too. Surely, it hurts even more for you to be compared with someone else. And that's what happened to me. My cousin (one of them) was diligent and knew exactly how to steal the attention from the dear teacher. I was not blaming her.

She was a genius though. She was all sweet and had the kind of manner that teachers wouldn't dare to get angry at. Apart from that, she could read notes and applied them on keys accurately. So, after my teacher saw my cousin's playing and praised with all her might with a smile as wide as a crescent moon, she moved to my electone and I could see her expression utterly changed to a bitter look. I tried my best to convert those "hanging ants" on the music book to the piano keys. I did that slowly but didn't gain the teacher's liking.

Well, to tell the truth, I COULD read notes but I didn't understand much about music theory, about scales and what would they become if they were converted from G minor to F minor etc. I remembered playing Fur Elise for the first time after listening to my cousin playing that, and after I finished the song, I showed my playing to my teacher, which was responded badly, asking if I didn't read the piece. I said yes, and she was not satisfied with it, no matter I had tried to listen to the songs from the MP3 or from my cousin's playing.

That was when I realized that I had something in common with my dad, who apparently couldn't read notes as well nor mastered the whole music theory thingy. We were simply musicians who played by ear. Well, I'm not as expert as Nodame, who did the same thing. I was faaar below that. Nodame was a craze that her life completely revolved around music.

Back to the topic. Apart from all the yells from my teachers, I came to realization that those yells were not all worthless. In fact, if the teachers were before my sight by now, I would thank them and kiss their hands in gratitude (okay, not this much) that those yells that I had received for the past several years, had finally gained an advantage for me. Through all my rocky experience as a pianist, through the whole "READ THE BLOODY PIECE you idiot!" screams and yells, something small emerged from them:

An inspiration.

I may not be successful (bah, I never want to become a pianist, but I mostly gain fictional stories from an alternate universe/version of mine) and I know that I don't even deserve to write an autobiography just like my mom (she's not all successful nor famous, but she dares to write an autobiography published on a Chinese newspaper). From my failure as a pianist and thirteen years of learning piano (I still do play piano now), some 'what ifs' started to appear in my head.

What if I could prove my piano teachers that I could become a good, famous pianist one day without even reading the piece? Only through hearing?
What if my teachers were against me and decided to make me fail if I didn't intend to read notes?
What if my 'play by ear' method really worked and became just like Nodame?

Once again, I'd like to stress out that I never intended to become a pianist. The statement you read above is only a 'what if'. Those 'what ifs' gradually changed into inspiration to make a story, the development and the detailed versions if those 'what ifs'. I might unofficially fail in piano learning, but an alternate version of mine - let's call her 'She' - would never do. I have so many versions of myself: an artist, a pianist, a bathroom singer, a writer, a violinist, and lastly a dancer.

One of those versions, She-pianist, was one and the first of many versions of myself that was going to be immortalized in form of a story, whether it was going to be a novel, novella, novellette, or a short story. But for sure, She-pianist is ME in the alternate universe. She is the main protagonist, whose life is mostly based on my experiences as a failed pianist. But in the real life, I gave up, in the alternate universe (which is going to be made a fictional story), she never gives up and struggles until the world admits that a pianist can become widely known even though she doesn't know anything about music theory, but she knows music by heart and feeling. Okay, I'm not like that you know. Hehe

Back to real life, after settling from piano, I finally found my second home

Violin

Which I promise to dedicate much of my music life for it and even through violin, I found many friends that share the same interest in classical music (after all these years, I live in a community where largely people would think classical music is so old fashioned). But after the December 6 event, I feel like I finally find people to whom I can share my interests at, and to whom I can talk more about classical music without people around saying that my taste is lame. I'd also like to thank Sharon Corr for becoming my inspiration in violin. Ten years ago, after seeing her in a concert DVD, I told my dad that I wanted to hold a violin too, just like her.

However lately, after listening to piano concertos, my inspiration in making the She-pianist novel which once has faded (because I practically have quit piano and have also stopped getting yelled at) somehow arose. That's why the quote at the very top of the post represents my feeling now...

That from today, I want to continue pursuing my talent in piano.
I want to get back to my previous teacher.
To be yelled at AGAIN.
The more and often she yells at me.
The more this inspiration will arise.

Sounds like I'm using her for another purpose, not to develop my skills in my piano, but more in writing. Sorry, kak.

Oh and I promise kak, if you're tired of yelling at me again, I promise I'll learn more music theory. I'll learn how to convert G minor to F minor, how to do the freaking fingering, and such. Thank you.

P.S:
I can't directly show myself as a music lover at school, since my music teacher is hated by the entire students, and teachers too, and since his presence at school, music becomes very much disliked. If I show myself too much as someone who is dedicated in music, my friends will think I'm a follower of that freaking teacher. Get it?

(Sorry that this post is considerably plain without the text highlighting I like to do nowadays, lacking of colors this time. Hope you'll understand that this whole plain writing represents the content of this post)