The Object of My Dejection

Today I will be responding to the daily prompt on the Object of My Dejection

Tell us about the object of your dejection — something you made, a masterpiece unfinished, or some sort of project that failed to meet your expectations. What did you learn from the experience? How would you do things differently next time?

I am a classical pianist. Saying it makes me sound kind of cool (at least I think so). But I’m not actually that good. Partially because I don’t practice that often. Then again it is hard to practice when all the available pianos are horribly out of tune and in a basement. I started young but was always doing it off and on. I would play for a year or two then fracture my wrist and hand in 7 places and take time off. For a year I would play again and then quite convincing myself school and piano was too much. Which would make sense if I had bothered to be a good student but I would have been able to do both easily. A year goes by and I take it up again for a few years. A year later guess what happens. I move to a National park and so stop playing. I love playing piano but the conditions aren’t always there for me to be able to do so.

So the object of my dejection? At one point (and this continues), I have dreams of grandeur of being an epic pianist along the lines of Franz Liszt. As a kid I would pretend to be him as I played the modified child versions of his Liebestraum. I took action and began writing my own composition. It could have been the next greatest gift that music received. However, it was always only partially finished. The beginning was beautiful and the middle put it to shame. But then something stopped and I couldn’t finish it. I lost whatever muse that started it. There was no possible ending I could conceive of to do this piece justice. It has been at least 12 years since I wrote this piece and I still haven’t thought of any ending. That piece is hidden somewhere under stacks of music that far surpass it. Looking back it probably was never that good to begin with. My parents had told me it was. Maybe they were being kind and maybe it was good for a child of my age. It still bothers me that it was never finished. I still have a hope one day to compose my own piano piece.

What did I learn from the experience? That I’ll never be as good as Franz Liszt, but what child is? Maybe Yundi Li draws a close second. How would I do things differently next time? Well that’s to be determined. I will compose a piano piece at some point. Maybe I will practice more often before I try again. Maybe I will spend 3 months only listening to classical. Maybe I will read up on music theory or composition and actually understand the mechanics behind it. But next time it will be a different piece. Something completely new. That old childhood piece will remain just that. It will be there to remind me and hopefully urge me on.

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