1st Draft PS..trying to get this done relatively quickly!
Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 4:23 pm
Hey guys, appreciate any help with this PS. I struggled so long to simply come up with the basic outline of this PS. I guess the fact is that there were so many things that I wanted to talk about. This is what I chose. Thanks!
Sometimes I feel as though setting my alarm is a fruitless endeavor. My arthritic fingers require no external power, and just may be more dependable at waking me up in the early morning. The calluses and swollen knuckles reveal my musical background the way the rings on a tree stump divulge its age. Twenty years of classical piano, paired with a poor habit of cracking my knuckles, and my fingers sometimes make me question whether my primary hobby has been a worthwhile investment. However, just as the pain in my fingers can be counted on to wake me up, these questions always subside. I know now that many of my most valuable traits are a direct result of my musical background. This realization always makes my swollen knuckles more manageable.
My first few years in college read like a series of unfortunate events. After attending one quarter at ****, I began experiencing panic attacks for the first time in my life. Anyone that has lived through these dreadful attacks realizes how debilitating they can be. I blame them partially on the departure from my suburban “nest”, and to a greater extent, on the overall atmosphere of the school. From ***, I transferred to ***, with the hopes of playing collegiate volleyball. While my time at *** was pleasant, I did not have any direction, or ambition. As a result, my grades were severely low. It wasn’t until my final transfer to ***, and the introduction of my new piano teacher, Natasha, that I learned how to correct my debilitating study-habits and goal-setting skills.
After performing for Natasha during our first lesson together (Pavane for a Dead Princess by Maurice Ravel), I remember my teacher remarking that, while she was impressed with the emotion I was able to display in the piece, the performance was lacking due to simpler issues, such as improper pedaling and sloppy articulation. “You’ve got to walk before you can run”, she would say, in her thick Russian accent, so in line with the cliché “drill sergeant” piano instructor from many current adults’ youths. Without having to explain her comment, I always knew what Natasha meant. After an especially poor performance of a Bach Invention, I realized that I must take the criticism to heart. How could I expect to play the piece at full-speed, if I couldn’t play it at half? How good could the piece possibly sound with both hands together, if I couldn’t even play the left hand perfectly? Every time sat down to practice, my mantra would be “walk before you run”. Instead of simply right-reading a piece until I memorized it, I would move from practicing one note, to a series of notes, to a phrase, to a section, and so on. Any weak link had to be fixed, or the final product would suffer. Although tedious, I was amazed at how much improvement I began hearing in the music. It wasn’t until receiving my first two semesters worth of grades that I realized what was happening. I had begun to implement this new method of studying into all of my classes. If I did not understand a piece of material in a given class, I would not move on to the next section. I found that, while I was reading noticeably slower, the added retention more than made up for the loss in time. I discovered that, just like in music, there are no shortcuts. Small errors always lead to large errors, which compound into even larger errors. The material being learned is largely irrelevant to the method of learning.
It is easy to look back at my twenty years of piano experience and wonder, “how much better would I have been at the instrument, and school in general, if I had developed this work ethic earlier”? However, often the easiest way is not the most rewarding way. By extensively modifying my work ethic around an age that many of my friends were graduating college, I feel as though I have a special appreciation for the transformation that I have undergone. While the four years spent with Natasha have flown by, her simple guideline of walking before I run has proved to be life changing.
Sometimes I feel as though setting my alarm is a fruitless endeavor. My arthritic fingers require no external power, and just may be more dependable at waking me up in the early morning. The calluses and swollen knuckles reveal my musical background the way the rings on a tree stump divulge its age. Twenty years of classical piano, paired with a poor habit of cracking my knuckles, and my fingers sometimes make me question whether my primary hobby has been a worthwhile investment. However, just as the pain in my fingers can be counted on to wake me up, these questions always subside. I know now that many of my most valuable traits are a direct result of my musical background. This realization always makes my swollen knuckles more manageable.
My first few years in college read like a series of unfortunate events. After attending one quarter at ****, I began experiencing panic attacks for the first time in my life. Anyone that has lived through these dreadful attacks realizes how debilitating they can be. I blame them partially on the departure from my suburban “nest”, and to a greater extent, on the overall atmosphere of the school. From ***, I transferred to ***, with the hopes of playing collegiate volleyball. While my time at *** was pleasant, I did not have any direction, or ambition. As a result, my grades were severely low. It wasn’t until my final transfer to ***, and the introduction of my new piano teacher, Natasha, that I learned how to correct my debilitating study-habits and goal-setting skills.
After performing for Natasha during our first lesson together (Pavane for a Dead Princess by Maurice Ravel), I remember my teacher remarking that, while she was impressed with the emotion I was able to display in the piece, the performance was lacking due to simpler issues, such as improper pedaling and sloppy articulation. “You’ve got to walk before you can run”, she would say, in her thick Russian accent, so in line with the cliché “drill sergeant” piano instructor from many current adults’ youths. Without having to explain her comment, I always knew what Natasha meant. After an especially poor performance of a Bach Invention, I realized that I must take the criticism to heart. How could I expect to play the piece at full-speed, if I couldn’t play it at half? How good could the piece possibly sound with both hands together, if I couldn’t even play the left hand perfectly? Every time sat down to practice, my mantra would be “walk before you run”. Instead of simply right-reading a piece until I memorized it, I would move from practicing one note, to a series of notes, to a phrase, to a section, and so on. Any weak link had to be fixed, or the final product would suffer. Although tedious, I was amazed at how much improvement I began hearing in the music. It wasn’t until receiving my first two semesters worth of grades that I realized what was happening. I had begun to implement this new method of studying into all of my classes. If I did not understand a piece of material in a given class, I would not move on to the next section. I found that, while I was reading noticeably slower, the added retention more than made up for the loss in time. I discovered that, just like in music, there are no shortcuts. Small errors always lead to large errors, which compound into even larger errors. The material being learned is largely irrelevant to the method of learning.
It is easy to look back at my twenty years of piano experience and wonder, “how much better would I have been at the instrument, and school in general, if I had developed this work ethic earlier”? However, often the easiest way is not the most rewarding way. By extensively modifying my work ethic around an age that many of my friends were graduating college, I feel as though I have a special appreciation for the transformation that I have undergone. While the four years spent with Natasha have flown by, her simple guideline of walking before I run has proved to be life changing.