late night summer rainings...the matter of being bold, and a piano

It's 0238hrs and I'm sitting here with my cup of tea: it's thundering and raining.  The quiet clear night air has that deliciously nice fresh green scent, you know, of freshly watered grass and leaves.  And, you can see it now; the dozey slowly waking autumn has taken out it's paintbrush and applied a subtle hint of golden-copper colour around edges of leaves. 

Maybe a glass of wine on the balcony before sleep would go down well.  Why am I awake at this insane hour, I hear you muse?  I guess I have a lot on my mind and I'm restless.  But the night is so still, it's beautiful.  Only nature's calming sounds, the gentle whispering of the wind sighing in the trees, and softly falling rain.  Stars far off, there seems to be so much more distance and space to life at night.  A certain clarity and deep peace. 

I find it a good time to clear my mind of all the confusion of the day as I sit on my balcony and absorb the peaceful rustling of leaves and tapping rain.  Rumble of thunder, a rush of wind, more rain.  New moon on Monday; then, in two weeks it'll be the harvest moon, shining full, clear and purposely bright, clearly visible from my 6th floor apartment balcony.

A couple days ago I wrote something to a friend on facebook, the words just seemed to fall out in the right order so that what I said stuck with me and got me back to thinking about the whole matter of being bold.  This has been on my mind lately, as a person who has been timid for long enough and who is trying to find the courage to dig deep enough and discover my *inner boldness*. 

I pondered on it and discovered that for once I had actually succeeded in putting EXACTLY into words some of the thoughts that I am continually struggling to try to put down in a way that gets to the heart of the matter.  And since I'm trying to develop my creative writing and poetical side through starting this blog I thought I'd share it with you.  O.K, hang on, here it comes::  

"NO you already have, YES you can get.  It's always worth a try, there's nothing to lose, but if you don't ask, or try, you'll never know.  You'll never know if it could be different, or what glorious new green mountainous far-stretching worlds are out there waiting to be discovered, because you'll always be stuck with NO, like a solid brick wall rising ground-up in front of you into the heavens."

haha - it's evolved somewhat, - even since the scribbling of this blog 36 hours ago, during the re-writing.  And no doubt it will evolve more after I've slept on it a few days.  Evolving usually entails making it more succint and less wordy.  It still needs ~tweaking~ a tad.  You're probably all thinking, well yeah......

I am very slowly beginning to learn that it makes a huge difference in life if you are able to free yourself of worrying about what other people think of you.  In worrying about what other people think about you, in a sense you allow them to define who you are; you do that by trying to behave within the parameters of what you think they consider is acceptable. 

Therefore it may well be true that the people who are closest to you have the capacity to mold you the most; and that can be good or bad in many complicated ways.  I've noticed over the last few months that the less I worry about what people think of me, the more free I am to be myself.  The more free to be myself I am, the more I seem to be able to relate to others, to be able to give again, to laugh out loud with them, to show love, acceptance and kindness, and to dare to take my place in life, alongside them.  I think it also has something to do with learning to accept myself more, and consequently being able to love others more. 

Of course there's always the risk of invevitable tripping, falling and possibly being seen as a slightly eccentric and obscure individual in the eyes of others, but it's a risk I'm willing to take as I endeavour to discover who I am within this new life I have just begun.  Being bold is at times quite terrifying but has at least, until this point, rendered mostly positive results.  How it continues.... remains to be seen. 

But, enough of THAT.  I had stated in my last post that pianos were 'behind locked doors' for me; however I am glad to announce that this is no longer the case.  Last week, in a moment of determination and after a few googled attempts at locating a piano shop, I went to Alkmaar where I discovered a lovely antiquated piano shop down a pleasant sidestreet by the river.  The owner restores pianos with much love and affection and having explained on the phone beforehand that I needed a piano for a year, he had picked one out for me to hire that fit into my budget. 

It was an Eavestaff, the cheapest piano in the shop, lovingly restored and polished to a high-mirror shine; a deep burgundy hue.  When I sat down to play, I had not expected the bright, clear crisp, sparkly exuberent and richly toned notes that bounced enthusiastically off all four walls and ceiling and made me smile from ear to ear.  So I decided this was to be my *new friend* for the next year, upon which I would attempt to rediscover and work out all the fine tunes continually evolving and being re-born ceaselessly in my head.  Maybe even write some music again. 

Hugo, the shop owner, had a restored Steinway from 1917 nestled in the corner, and a Bechstein.  I was allowed to play them too, such beautiful deep rich tones, it lifted my heart to play them.  I believe that pianos have feelings, you know, and like people, they have many beautiful things to say, and are waiting to be heard, and to be given a loving home.  Well, anyway, if you've got 38,000 euros in your pocket then the restored 1917 Steinway is yours.  Had a nice cup of tea (always nice..) and talked with Hugo about music, he suggested a local jazz club and places where I could find music and others who love it. 

The next morning, my new friend was delivered and given place of honour in my living room.  A dodgy moment ensued whereby we both thought *he* would not fit through the hallway but finally we managed it.  I think *he* (who I have yet to name) is slightly disgruntled from the move and may need another tuning, but I have really enjoyed playing him this week.  Apparently my music echoes all through the gallery, so I will see if that sits well with other people or not...

I am working on my jazz again; it's so frustrating right now, I studied it at Uni but most of my energy went into classical piano, violin, singing and composition.  I can hear the music, in my heart and head the notes are singing, however as yet I cannot get what's in my heart out onto the piano in a way that sounds right.  Jazz is a whole other world to classical, a world of improvisation, the working-out of a basic idea which is continually evolving into something new and fresh, never the same, like an ongoing journey of discovery.  And it just makes me happy. 

In many ways I think it is harder than classical piano to master, but you really have to have a feel for jazz, that's the beginning of the journey.  I am going to have to persevere with relentless excercises - and the complicated process of working out the music in my heart and head, until finally hopefully the notes create some form of musical poetry that sounds alive and will hopefull eventually make people smile..  If I can do that over the next year, as well as get my classical going again, I'll be well pleased. 

Enough said.  I have to stop obsessively messing with this blog now.  A few moments of absent-minded fuggy star-staring and listening to wind rustling in trees on my balcony, are in order, before bed.