Saturday, January 12, 2013 10:04 PM
Adieu au Piano
Cher Mon Piano,
Our intertwined paths end here. I suppose we've reached a fork in the road and I have chosen to depart from you to pursue a university education. The last thirteen -- we almost made it to fourteen -- years were wonderful, colourful, choking, painful, tranquil. I know that I ought to have one more semester with you, but I'm afraid that the pinnacle of our time has passed, and I will likely never practice again, or at least for a very long time. I am not sure if there are any words to properly describe this moment -- language, for me, has barriers, unlike the emotion that lived in the notes of your pages and lines and measures. Saying goodbye is difficult -- strange -- but I know that this can't really be goodbye, because our piece isn't finished. We have one more page to go (the penultimate page), but yet that page will only be completed some day far off in the future and who knows if we'll go elsewhere then.
But tonight, I'll leave you with roaring synergy of the finale of Chopin's Ballade no. 4.
Bisous,
Amy.