Memorial Day = Terror

For some reason, I agreed to play during the observance on the base this year. I had sworn to avoid public performances since my last time.

It was simply a recital with not many people present. I was calm and confident. I was looking forward to playing Bach's Partita III for Violin solo in E. I had played it many times and was quite fond of it. Then it happened. In the middle of the performance I dropped my violin.

Mortified... That is what I was. It was then I swore never to play publicly again.

What possessed me to agree to play again in public is unknown to me. As I took the stage I was gripped with terror. My hands trembled. Thankfully, I was not to sing for I had no breath to do so. I took precautions against dropping my violin again. Not only did I rosin my bow, but my hands as well. I looked quite odd in an evening dress with white hands. I even struggled momentarily to get my violin beneath my cheek. The violin's creator surely would have repossessed his handiwork upon seeing my clumsiness.

I fear I took too long to gather myself to play. I struggled to find that place where I could be alone in my mind. Eventually I did find it though it felt as if several minutes had passed.

I played. I did not drop my violin. I am not satisfied with the results. In too many places the notes were unclear and rushed. If I am to play this again, I must work harder on those portions I rushed.

Lt said it was good. I asked him how I could trust the word of one who not did not know the difference from a violin and a viola but was also married to me and wishes for me to feel good of the performance. If you like, you may be the judge.