About Me

My photo


Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Friday, June 07, 2013

Scribbles and Scrambles - Violin Tales

Yesterday I had my....let me see... about 17th somethingish violin lesson. 

I'm still in book one. Almost finished with book one. I've learned the 5 notes on each of the 4 strings = 20 notes. I've "learned" whole, half, quarter and eighth note and the approximate timing of each. cough.cough. cricket. I'm playing segments of symphonies. By playing segments I mean like 25 notes. 

Anyhoo. So with all these skilz you'd think the lesson was stellar.

A few months ago I asked for stickers for when I had a great day. Yesterday I got a sticker. 

Backstory. The sticker is part and parcel of a package of stickers I bought and gifted to my frustrating/adorable/sarcastic/funny/talented/taskmaster/teacher. I figured if I bought the stickers he couldn't use the old excuse. "I don't have stickers." Direct quote, by the way. 

So what amazing thing did I do to get my sticker?  Wait for it. Wait for it.

Failure to stick in the upper portion of my bow to make for successful bowing technique that utilizes proper posture, hand usage and pleasant tone versus sqwackage type crapola. This is a paraphrased quote.

Note that the sticker is a skull and crossbone...as in death to those who cross here. I feel intimidated to practice this week.

On a lighter note. This adorable drawing was done by a five-year-old student. Likely, he is way more advanced than me, in violin skills, as well as art. More good news. I get to move to a new book. Bad news attached to the good news? A different company's violin book. Book number 1. Yes. I'm getting a new Book 1. I'm pretty sure the five-year-old artist conquered it when he was three.