Attention, Please!

I’ve never been one to want attention. 

 

I avoid it, actually. 

 

This, of course, begs the question of why I have a blog but more on that later.

 

As a kid, I wouldn’t allow people to take my picture.  I’m not sure if it was just to irritate my parents or if I really felt insecure.  I would also never play the piano for people. I was actually pretty good at it but for some reason it would just infuriate me that my parents wanted me to show it off.   They were proud.  I shunned this with bitchy little girl attitude that I still sorta have but don’t want to admit so I won’t.  When they visit, they still want me to play.  I still won’t.  I have no excuse for this.

 

I’ve come to believe this is some sort of deep emotional rebellion.  

 

Yeah.  That’s it; rebellion.

 

Because I love music in all forms so why wouldn’t I want to share it if I could actually make it?  Perhaps it was because the only thing kids were taught to play in small town Illinois was classical music.  I resented that.  What I wanted was to play that kick ass piano solo from Layla by Derrick and the Dominos but instead, I was stuck with Beethoven Concertos in some sort of minor or major or Debussy’s weird impressionism (although Clair de Lune haunts me in a weirdly comforting way).

 

And while I’m on the subject of music, I also played the flute.  My idol was Ian Anderson from Jethro Tull.  What a cool, wild-haired-spitting-into-his-woodwind-hunk-a-rock-‘n-rock he was.  But I’m here to tell ‘ya, they don’t make sheet music for that either so this merely added to my frustration.  Not that I would have tried to emulate him anyway.  I would have looked like an idiot.

 

Oh, I forgot to mention, I’m deathly afraid of fucking up in a public sort of way. Like playing the wrong note or losing sight of my place on the page; of getting lost.

 

Damn!  Why wasn’t I born with any of that try-out-for-American-Idol-no-matter-how-bad-I-suck kind of chutzpah?  *big sigh*

 

So….back to the subject of the blog and why it doesn’t bother me that it draws attention, albeit in a rather controlled way.  I’m alone when I do it.  There is no one watching me, no one listening, per se.  It feels like a solitary pursuit and that’s where I’m most comfortable. It’s peaceful and non-threatening.  I won’t release anything until I’m confident I haven’t made a mistake unlike music where a sour note is reflected on the faces of the audience…..like…immediately.   I am safe here and my sour notes are usually edited out before they go anywhere.  At least that’s what I tell myself, anyway.

 

One last thing:  For all of you out there with classical music on your “please hold while your party is reached” cell phone message; can you please just get some Coldplay for fuck sake??