Day 18 - Childhood Dreams

Day 18: January 18, 2020

The challenge for today from UBC is to write about our childhood dreams. As I sit here pondering this question, the first thing that came to mind was the Monarchy and the Queen. I was always mesmerized by her stature and position in the world. I recall seeing the castle on the news and thinking to myself, I'd like to be a queen one day and live in a mansion such as this. Honestly, I'm not sure if it was, I wanted to be a queen - or just wanted to live in a mansion. LOL

Then I thought about my childhood dream of becoming a teacher...until Ms. Pena popped my hands with the metal ruler! That pop quickly dissipated 'that' dream! 

I remember when we would go see my granddad at the hospital, there would be these young ladies in their red/pinkish and white pinafores and their little caps pouring water for patients, grabbing pillows, saying good morning to those they came in contact with. All the while, smiling the entire time. I always thought that is what I wanted to do - as I enjoyed people. I wanted to share warmth, encouragement and a smile to those who may have such a bleak future awaiting them.  I always thought about how rewarding that type of job would be, helping others.

In the 4th grade, I took up playing the violin. No one else in my family anywhere was musically inclined. I recall setting out on the front porch every afternoon practicing my scales. A, B, C, D, E, F, G - being reminded of the way I was holding my instrument, the sound, the pressure I was putting on the bow, making sure each time I had put rosin on the bow before actually stroking the strings with those fine horse hairs. Yes, there were between 160-180 hairs made from the hank of horsehair.  

I'd stroke those strings with that bow and squeals would sing out, day in and day out...in the 5th grade, nothing changed. I'd get home from school, grab my music book and violin and set out on the front porch - practice, practice, practice. Playing each piece as if I was the master of this instrument...I'd pluck the strings, I'd bounce my bow, I'd throw a tremolo in there occasionally, still scratching and squealing. I was 'making' beautiful music.... NOT!!!! Imagine this, here I am probably 8 or 9 years old sitting on the front porch with this musical instrument and playing Mary Had a Little Lamb - - squeal.... scratch, screech! oh no, Nancy - stop that horrible music. Practice IS over, come in the house now...and so I'd quit practicing. I'd think to myself though, summer is approaching, and I can change to the flute in 6th grade - oh how I wanted to be a flutist. I can't wait for summer to be over. 

Summer has come and gone, school is back in session and I'm ready to change musical instruments. I'm so excited, I'm in the 6th grade now and can change instruments. I get to learn how to play the flute. I remember being mesmerized with the sound of the flute when I'd go see orchestras play on school trips. That's what I wanted to play...I had to play the flute, there was nothing else I wanted to do. My birthday was rapidly approaching, and my parents said, 'they were going to buy me a shiny new instrument for my birthday'. Yea, my dream is going to come true. I'm going to get a new flute (shiny they said) We loaded up the car, headed to the music store out by Sunset Center in Amarillo, Texas. There was a man standing behind the counter talking to dad and he told them, we are going to buy our daughter a shiny new instrument can you assist us? Why of course, I imagine them saying...

Wait, that isn't a flute? you guessed it, this man brought out a violin - I don't want to play the violin anymore I blurted out...I want to play the flute! I didn't win that argument. We left that store with a brand-new Herrmann violin, in a huge square box that had deep blue velvet inside. The bow had Mother of Pearl on the end and the bow hairs were silky and white as can be. As I sit here writing these memories, I recall being so upset in the car - all I was doing in the back seat was sulking. I didn't want this brand-new violin, I wanted to play the flute. I wanted to be in the marching band, I wanted to go to the High School football games and wear one of those band uniforms, I wanted to make music like the songbird does. I didn't get my way. 

6th grade, I didn't get the instrument I wanted so I need to buckle up and make the best of it...and that's exactly what I did. I'll show them was my attitude, I've had two years now to home in my musical talent. I have the music stand set up, the sheet music in place, my bows all rosined up and I'm ready to commence playing a musical rendition of something or another. I'm very serious now...I look around the neighborhood while I'm setting out on the front porch. This neighbor is setting outside, that neighbor is setting outside, and my mom and dad are just inside in the living room. I know they can hear me play, so played I did. SQUEAK...SCRATCH...SQUEAK, SQUEAL... (Nancy, my mother yells - play right!!!) I started laughing because, in my mind, I was going to show them or better yet, let them hear that I wasn't going to be a violinist. I was going to make a statement that playing the violin wasn't for me. I wanted them to hear the sounds they spent their hard-earned money on. I was going to make an impression that they made a mistake! That backfired very quickly...

As usual, practicing every day out on the front porch became a ritual for me. I'd practice, practice, practice hours on end. From the moment I walked in the door from school until sunset. Playing, playing and playing. Practicing, practicing, practicing. Stroking those strings ever so delicately to play softly or at a crescendo. I'd pluck those strings; I'd go from low G to high E - my violin was singing like the songbird. I had made up my mind, that if I MUST play the violin, I was going to be the best I could be...and that is exactly what I did. I took up private music lessons the summer going into 7th grade. I'd play and play, practice and practice. Tighten up that bow, rosin up the horsehairs and begin to stroke those strings...a beautiful sound began to fill the air with the music from that instrument. The neighbors would continue to set out on the front porch each evening waiting for their concert, by me! 

7th grade - I became Concert Mistress and maintained that chair until the end of my Freshman year. I was chosen to play in UIL concerts. I competed in UIL competitions against other kids my age across the state of Texas. I continued with private lessons. I memorized scores of music day in and day out. I learned intonation. I learned articulation. I learned how to play in a Bariolage manner. I learned how to use the Bartok Pizz. I'd bounce my bow across those strings. Sometimes, I'd play with the con sordino technique using a mute. Maybe, I'd do a left-hand pizzicato or even a Martele'. Sometimes while playing, I would slur the notes and let them sound as if they were in unison with one another. While playing a piece, occasionally, you could hear a vibrato. I became the best I could be. I became a master of my instrument. 

In Amarillo during the '70s, there were 4 High schools that the middle schools fed into. I recall having a rival across town that played their violin with such command I as I had begun playing mine. We both were in the 7th grade. She was Concert Mistress in her school and me in mine. When we'd see each other at competitions, we knew each of us had something to prove to one another and to our respective teachers. The challenge was on...it made me want to practice ever more intently. Learning more scores of music, memorizing each one as soon as it was passed out to us. We drew from each other. If she was playing a piece, I had to learn it and vice versa. We kept pushing one another day after day, month after month, year after year - until we hit 10th grade. Now, we are in the same class - the same school and there can only be one Concert Mistress. Each week, we would challenge one another - - I'd maintain the 1st chair and she would be my 2nd or she would win over the challenge and I'd become her 2nd. 

We'd play, play, play...honing those skills better, better, better. We grew from each other. She came from a family of musicians. This stuff came easy to her. It was in her blood, her DNA. As for me, no one else in my family was musically inclined. I had no idea where this musical talent came from. I would play in church. I'd go to hospitals and play for people who were sick. Sunday afternoons after church, we'd go to the Nursing homes and shower the residents with beautiful renditions of How Great Thou Art or It Is Well with My Soul. We'd always close with Amazing Grace and the residents were so thankful. 

I knew then my parents made the right decision in not buying me a shiny new flute that summer day just before 6th grade. I realized then, God had bestowed a musical talent within my being that only He could do...you see, I didn't read music. I couldn't. I didn't have a clue what key a piece of music was in - although I'd memorize the music each time a new piece was given. I learned to play by ear - sure, I could read the notes off the page to get myself through - -but it was very difficult for me. It didn't come easy to me like it did my rival. I had to work at it and work I did...I became a Master musician. 

I remember hearing Itzhak Perlman (1945 -) play during a concert that was on television one day...I sat their intent on his every stroke. His finger movement, his sounds...I wanted to play my violin just like he played his. I wanted to command the audience. His music was the epitome of what I wanted mine to grow into. I wanted to be the best of the best. To be known not only locally, but across the United States and abroad. I wanted to become a world-renowned violinist. 

By my junior year in high school, I had already received opportunities for full paid music scholarships. My future was going to be set, and I was going to become and live out my dream of one of the greatest musicians in the world. I was on my way...

Then life happened!

~~Heart to Heart Soul Creations

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