Stringing the Years Together
I remember feeling a surge of disappointment when it arrived at our house, shipped in a standard brown box. Nothing about what I saw before me resonated with the feelings that I had been having for weeks prior; overwhelming excitement mixed with a little anxiety. Although I wasn’t totally sure what to expect, I knew that I didn’t want to wait a moment more. I hurriedly pushed my mom aside, and produced from the box a smaller container that was covered in black fabric and was shaped somewhat akin to that of an elongated triangle. Upon unzipping it, I found myself face-to-face with exactly what I had been hoping for. It wasn’t much bigger than me, looked very fragile, and had an odd smell; my very first violin.
My interest in playing an instrument had first been piqued when someone had visited my third grade classroom, encouraging all of us to start playing an instrument. I remember being mesmerized fairly instantly at the sound of the violin; it had a sweeter tone than the cello, and was far less daunting to look at than the bass. Not long after the demonstration at school, I informed my parents that this was something I strongly wanted to pursue. I had dabbled in many different activities during my childhood, usually for as long as they held my interest; never very long. This contributed to my parent’s initial hesitancy in my sudden attraction to the violin, however I reassured them that I would see this through.
I joined the school orchestra and knew instantly that I had made the right decision. The time slot designated for “music” class was the part of the day that I looked forward to most, and as soon as it was over, I was already counting down the hours until I could resume the next day. About a year or so since I had begun playing, I started taking private lessons, in addition to the instruction I was receiving at school. It was at this point that I become consumed by playing and never looked back.
I continued to play throughout high school, joining the orchestra while continuing to take lessons privately. Over the course of ten years, the violin had become something that I could always turn to. If I was really happy, I’d want to play a song. If I was sad, I’d want to find a piece that resonated with how I was feeling. If I was stressed out and overwhelmed with homework, practicing offered the perfect study break solution. It wasn’t until many years into my playing that I had this realization; an instrument which I had come to know on somewhat of a whim, had been with me, by my side, through almost all of life’s ups and downs. As a result of extensive teaching, I had been taught a vast amount of material regarding the violin. However in the end, the violin helped me to learn the most about myself.