Moonlight Sonata

Opus 27 No. 2 Movements 1, 2 and 3... Every year since my dad's passing, my piano teacher, Joseph has been contacting me to ask me to take part in an annual recital. This year is no exception. I understand his gesture. Between the both of us, piano serves as a remembrance of my dad, how rain or shine, he would relentlessly fetch me to and fro for piano lessons. Riding his Vespa, we'd battle the rain together, he'd make sure I get there at 8pm, parked his Vespa and wait for me at the coffee shop until 8.50pm before he'd come up to wait outside Joseph's house, where he can sneakily catch the last 10 minutes of my lesson, knowing that I hate performing in front of him and my mum.

To say that I hate performing in front of my parents might be too strong an expression. Rather, I feel pressured whenever I feel their eyes on me. As years went by, I eventually voiced this out to them and I'd play the piano while they were back facing me, watching TV in the living room. Along the way in the midst of my practice, I'd notice the lowered volume of the TV. Then at the end of a piece, I'd turn around and find them looking my way, already familiarised with the pieces I play and knowing the sound of it nearing its end.

I do want to take part in the recital. I know Joseph assigned me this piece because he knows that I can. It's challenging but not impossible, for me. I listen to this piece, close my eyes and picture the keys, the fingering, the pedalling, everything coming together. I don't even need the sheet, I'm quite familiar with this piece. Played smoothly, all 3 movements will take up a full 15 minutes. 

My concern is my left middle finger. I can picture the timing to hit the keys in the right fingering to make the right sounds but my left hand can no longer coordinate with my right hand. By now, it should be fully healed, but the fear brings about a conscious effort to not put too much strain on that finger. If anyone could look inside my head and see the performance inside, they'll know it's perfect. But my hands now... Simply put, I'm scared. I really want to perform that piece but I'm scared of testing the limits of my left middle finger. For years, I've been putting off the recital with "I'm not ready". Escaping is always the easiest way out. I don't know but it's just that this year, for the first time I really really feel like trying.

I am a musician and no matter how hard I try, I can never forget the touch and sound of my instrument.

Ahhhhh so frustrating!!! How is it that as a badminton player, a sprained ankle is so easy for me to revert back to normal playing but as a musician, a 7-stitched left finger makes everything seem meaningless.