Sunday, October 11, 2009

Honest Critic


Today my sister Skyped me, and I had a nice chat with her and my mother. My sister showed me some masks she'd made in an art workshop. I played bits o' fiddle tunes for her and my mother.

I'd practiced a lot today -- two hours -- and was tired; that, and nervousness at being in front of an audience, even a virtual one, probably accounted for the fact that my never-too-polished technique was shakier than usual. I wobbled through Mary and her little lamb, and then said, "I'm sure I'll be better by the time I see you guys in December."

"Yes," my mother said politely, "that will be lucky for all of us."

Heh! Doesn't pull any punches, that one! She actually recognized my equally shaky rendition of "Good King Wenceslas," though, so there's hope.

I should add in my own defense that my sister had asked -- nay, demanded -- that I get out the violin. So it was a command performance. Bet they don't do that again. Bwah hah hah! (And pity the poor neighbors, since I haven't been using my practice mute lately.)

1 comment:

  1. Well, Beloved, you know the punchline to the question about how to get to Carnegie Hall....

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