Maybe it's pathetic fallacy striking again through the dreary weather here in Boston, but it's been a gray few weeks back at school. On the one hand, I feel like a chicken running around with its head cut off, trying to handle all the things I've put on my plate and barely surviving. On the other hand, I feel almost bored. I have an old T-shirt that says, "Find inspiration everywhere," and I think I need to dig it out of my closet and start wearing it again, because that's what's missing these days--inspiration.
You can work your butt off and do everything right, but if you're putting all your effort in for the wrong reasons, ultimately you aren't going to feel 100% satisfied. If I'm practicing harder than usual and scheduling my time more efficiently these days, it's so that I can cross more things off my check list and feel some sense of accomplishment and self-worth. But to be honest, simple love for playing music has become less and less of a conscious factor behind my actions. Here are some realizations I've had that probably contribute to my decreasing motivation:
1) All humans are not created equal.
Some of us are just naturally more talented than others, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. There's always that group of people who are the first to catch on to something, the fastest learners, the most creative minds. They can revel in the luxury of intellectual superiority without having to lift a finger--they were born this way. Then, there are the people who actually have to work to get to the level of that first group. I've always considered myself somewhere in the middle; I know what it's like to be the first to figure something out and have to sort of wait for everyone else around me to understand it...it's a weird combination of triumph and embarrassment, smugness and self-consciousness. I also know what it's like to be with people who are waiting for ME to finally catch on...I can tell when I'm the "slow" one who has to work harder to try and keep up. It doesn't bother me too much when I'm in the latter group, because I can accept that I'm not the best. However, there are a few occasions when it really makes me second-guess the extent of my capabilities, and whether my hard work is worth it.
An example--Q and I have been playing in the same quartet for three years now. I think we work well together, we get along, and there have been lots of good laughs and good times...I mean, we must be doing something right, otherwise we wouldn't have stayed together for so long. He's always been sort of like my hero in terms of violin-playing, and while I consider myself his equal when we're working together, I am secretly in constant awe of his music-making. However, spending a lot of time with him also reminds me more than anything else that life is not fair. Here's what normally happens. Say we both take an audition for the same orchestra. I start practicing for it a few weeks in advance, I listen to recordings, drill passages with my metronome like a good girl etc. He prints out his music and looks over it the night before, and minutes before the actual audition, changes his mind about which concerto he'll play. We both take the audition and end up with pretty similar results, him a bit higher than me. Granted, there may be a lot of factors I'm leaving out...he's a lot older, more experienced, and spent a larger percentage of his childhood practicing than I did...but what it boils down to is natural talent, in my opinion.
The fact is, there are people out there who are just automatically better/smarter/faster/stronger...and while perseverance DOES make a difference, there is only SO much that it can do. This applies to everything, not just music. I go to a school where I constantly see examples of people who easily achieve a level of music-making I can only reach at my best moments. This should inspire me, but watching them, I actually find myself thinking, "What's the point?" And I settle back to my usual comfortable spot--somewhere in the middle, certainly not the worst and certainly not the best.
2) You can't control luck.
There are good years, and there are bad years. I try not to be too superstitious, but I really do think 2010 is somewhat of a "bad" year for me, in the context of my life. It started with me trying to make a celebration pound cake, which both exploded and imploded in the oven (yes, that's possible). Then, it moved on to several days of weeping sessions, losing eight pounds, and eating about five bites of food a day (YES, that's possible). With regards to music, I guess there were several instances where I really felt I tried the best I could, did the best job I could, and still didn't get what I want. Now, if this were a math test or a science project, it wouldn't bother me very much. I mean, I'm not trying to make a living as a mathematician or a biologist. But in music? When I do my best and don't make the cut, it bothers me. Well, really, it scares me. I don't let it affect my confidence or my belief that I deserved it. I just realize that no matter how hard I try, there's always the luck factor that I can't control. I mean, you can play like Heifetz, but if there is no dream job opening, you're not going to get your dream job. Once again, I find myself thinking, "What's the point?" And I settle back to my usual comfortable mode of living--chugging along, practicing my scales and learning my pieces, so that at the end of the day, I can check off all the items on my to-do list.
There are some professions where this sort of philosophy and work ethic will suffice, but music isn't one of them. If you make music for the ultimate goal of self-satisfaction and accomplishment, I don't think you will get very far. It doesn't work that way...there is something fundamental, something much deeper that exists at its core. Knowing this, feeling uninspired has made me very uneasy and stressed out lately. And on a drizzly cloudy Friday night as I packed up my things and trudged out of my practice room at midnight, after a long day of sectionals (zzz...), French (zzzz...), Schenkerian Analysis (ZZZZZ...), excerpt class (sigh), Pho with C (God always throws me a silver lining here and there :) ), and the gym, I felt like a shape in a child's coloring book waiting to be filled in with a gray crayon.
But then I pass by one of the practice rooms, and look through the window. There are five people inside, obviously students, sitting around in a circle listening to some piano quintet which is blasting through iPod speakers. They have music in their laps and smiles on their faces, as they nod and sway their heads to the music, eyes closed. Late on a Friday night.
Why do we play music? Oh yeah. Because we LOVE it.
Find inspiration everywhere. Amen. :)
