Day Eleven (Part II): Grieg - Notturno Op. 54 No. 4

When I was was somewhere near the age of 15 and began practicing this song, I would only practice it very late at night, after everyone was in bed and nobody could hear me playing. Arturo, my piano teacher, would tell me to see a scene unrolling in every song that I learned. He said to play a song really well, you needed to emotionally connect to it, and to emotionally connect to it, you needed feel it out - what's going on in the song, who or what is it about, what are the dynamics of it.

And so I would tip toe over to the piano around midnight and start playing note by note, listening to whatever it was secret the song wanted me to be a privy. And this song? As my fingers danced along the keys, I could hear two people, very late at night, floating high up some where. The right hand was playful yet persistent in expressing herself and would speed up and get ahead of herself and then slow down, just waiting for the left hand to respond in kind. And the left hand - that constant progression of chords - was mischievously sitting there, listening, trying to play it cool (all the while not so secretly entranced and wonderstruck). But on the bottom of the second page and middle of the third page of the music, the tension would  break just a little and suddenly they were both dancing, playing off one another, in a sort of witty repartee.

I never felt like I was just playing a song, but rather I was making this story come alive every time I sat down at the piano. And their little story never got old! I would play the song for hours, entranced by the two of them - because everytime, in the last two lines, the left hand stops playing hard to get and the piece concludes with a chord that spans the piano, played equally by both.

Seven years later and I could here the delicate notes of the Notturno playing themselves out - not because I was playing the song on the piano but because suddenly I found that I was the one that somebody else somehwere in the Universe was playing that song about. We laid on the blanket atop that high, majestic hill overlooking the twinkling lights of Madrid blending in with the stars and nothing (nothing) else existed. I was somewhere between "The Notebook" and a "Walk to Remember" and I NEVER wanted to leave.

"This night is sparkling - don't you let it go." ;)

How did I get here? What did I do to deserve this? I've been blithe before, but this is a whole level of whimsy. I'm living in another language (my favorite language), with new friends here I really enjoy, and a family I adore, in a cozy bright orange room, with classes I'm learning from, and two program directors who make me feel so cared for, friends and family at home who haven't even begun to forget about me and her.

I feel like the normal reaction would be to get all caught up in it, but every day I spend so much time thinking how grateful I am for everybody and everything that got me here. My mom and dad raising me to be who I am and to love to travel and to be independent. My grandma for always treating me like I knew what I was doing even when others were doubtful. The late night freaks out with Conor and Woody and Ivan ;) the late night pep talks. All of the love I've always felt from Stephen, Julia and Brazilian. All of the new-found self-confidence instilled in me to be who I am and love every minute of it from all my Hoots family. All my teachers and life coach who were hard on me at the most unexpected times but believed in me no matter what. Hell - even that little man at the DMV in Madison who told me to "keep up the good work" and always takes ID pictures of me that make me feel so pretty. I've fought for an amazing amount of autonomy and have been given it - but I think that makes the unbelievable amount of gratitude I feel every day go unspoken sometimes.

I'm not just blithe because I <3 my life here in Spain - I'm blithe because of all of the people that truly believed in me to get here and do my thing when I was doubting myself. When I was 15 I felt like the only person I could truly count on to listen to me and make me feel okay again was Conor. And now I feel like I could call up a hundred people and every one would know what to say. This is something I NEVER thought I would have. But it's just another one of those things where you have to go far from home to realize is true.

I wish so badly I had my painting stuff right now... my favorite canvases are the ones I painted when I was so happy I felt as though I might explode. *giggle* Gracias por eso, L. <3

XOXO
Jet-set Cupcake