Friday, August 11, 2006
Let me introduce you to my two music teachers who are responsible for my rather unhappy musical condition.
Candidate 1:
Mr.Horse Strong Name- which is, unfortunately, the best translation of his name using my rather limited vocabulary of chinese.
I met him 2 years ago, in Primary 6.
At that point of time, I'd been a happy little grade 1, whose exsistence in the musical world didn't matter at all.
1 year later, I'm in sec one, contemplating joining the symphony national youth orchestra the following year, in string ensemble, and going to sit for a grade 5 exam.
You would think that I'd be thankful but I'm not.
2 years later, I'm in sec 2, knowing that i won't be able to join the SNYO because of migration, almost going to be section leader for cello and almost chairwoman, but unable to because of migration, and going to sit for a grade 8 exam in march but may be unable to, because of migration.
You would think that migration would be a curse, but now, looking at it this way, there are possibilities...
Mr. Horse Strong Name is relatively strict, relatively mean to me, and relatively funny.
As in funny (haha) AND funny (weird).
Hollywood lost a great actor when Mr.HSN chose music as his career. He seems to have something against examinors.
One of his goals in life is to create a student whose dyamics will cause the Above Mentioned to fall off his chair.
I used to NEVER smile at him because of his Relatively Meaness to me, but then my mom coerced me to by the most underhand means.
Oh and bloggy, as of the 15th of August, we've got no more internet connection so you can't blame me for not posting.- You can't exactly expect me to sit at the computer and stare at the screen, willing it to connect if it's cut off.
Even supernatural powers have limitations.
You know, there was this monday when i was having a lesson with him and he was teaching me to play octaves, which mainly consist of you Stretching your Finger to the Point of Dislocation. Then, to help improve this "technique", he tells me to practice rubbing my thumb against the string.
It's bad enough that my thumbs been dislocated, now he wants me to butcher it.
Right.
We then proceeded to thirds, which is the Cramping of your Hand Muscles.
Look mister, if you want to kill me that badly, just tell me and I'll do it myself for free.
Sheesh.
Anyway.
Candidate 2:
Ms. Silver.
She is Pollish, not polish but a citizen of poland.
Plus, she's much nicer than the Above Mentioned.
But she stills enjoys squeezing out every bit of juice in me, till I'm dry as a bone by the time lessons are over.
But other than that, she's a really really really good teacher.
As like the Above Mentioned.
posted @ 1:41 AM
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