Undergraduate / Chemistry, math, playing the piano - common app [5]

I enjoy deciphering patterns, neatly packing things into their own formula. Chemistry, full of its mysterious symbols and chemical formulas suddenly makes sense when I discovered hydrogen oxide, water is H2O. Facing a Latin translation appears daunting, yet thankfully every word has a meaning and can nearly be translated word for word. Math too comes as naturally, with its certain rules for every function. Then even English, typically devoid of any formulas, can even come with its own strict five-paragraph essay format.

When I started playing the piano, I followed the same approach formulaic approach. I mistakenly thought that if followed the notes on the sheet exactly, then my playing should, logically, sound excellent. Determinedly, I learned all the notes to Beethoven's Fur Elise. My fingers hit the right notes, at the right time, and I thought I had surely reached perfection.

That is, until I heard my piano teacher playing. Where her fingers gracefully danced over the keys, pulling each one to life, my fingers had mechanically pressed the keys. I had read the music like a computer program, forgetting the actual dynamics behind the piece. I had treated each key identically, forgetting to lighten my touch on some of them. There is no formula to create the melodies. It takes practice and experimentation to imagine how the music should be interpreted.

I struggled to accept that even tilting my wrist a certain way gave the notes a slightly more lilting jolt or that emphasizing certain notes really makes a difference. Finding the perfect sound behind a musical piece becomes a journey into the unknown. Beethoven gave me the sheet music to play the music, but he did not give me the emotions behind each of the notes. Playing the piano reminded me to not depend completely on a formula and to make my own discoveries. Now when I play I don't just read, I imagine. Sometimes I see a heartbroken man, weeping over an unrequited love.

It felt freeing the first time I tossed the music aside and let my fingers play from memory. The notes floated hauntingly in the air, as though that heartbroken man sat beside me on the piano bench, wailing his life's story. I know I wasn't playing the song perfectly, but I loved every moment of it. That's life for you- drop the written page and you will create something new, even if it doesn't exactly work out. Perfection is unreasonable and so are patterns. I like patterns, but life isn't about patterns. It's about sewing new patterns into an old quilt.