i am just starting to do uc essays!yikes! anyway, if anybody can help to make it better,that would be a huge help!
Heart On Strings
I remember first touching my guitar.
It was cool and glossy somehow having a calming aura despite its dilapidated state, all worn out with chipped paint and dull wood.
I hated it.
My family before tried to musically educate me through the violin. However it wasn't going to do, seeing how I didn't practice everyday, or even took interest in it. In my ten-year-old mind frame I thought " Why should I play some boring old instrument, when I could be drawing, dancing, or singing? Something that is cool, and not boring." Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't hard to play the violin, in fact I was one of the faster students in the class, it was just wasn't...fitting.
After a year of misery, my parents relented and I believed myself to be free out of those detestable classical music lessons and that stuffy classroom, not to mention my teacher.
My violin teacher saw everybody in the same light, not as an individual, each with a special way to master the instrument. Everyday was the same old thing, exercise after exercise, and to me, it was a waste of time.
As I remember, when I first started I didn't take the guitar happily. I absolutely abhorred going to a half hour lesson every Sunday. When I could be doing something -in my mind then- more productive.
This time my parent didn't relent as quickly. They kept driving me to my lessons, having argument after argument, especially between my dad and I , of whom I thought was "forcing" me to take lessons.
It wasn't bad at the lessons. My teacher actually spoke to me and saw me as a person instead of a typical student and the lesson was always different every time. He and I could converse and have an enjoyable time together.
However, I still didn't like the guitar. Looking in my current view, I believe the reason I was acting this way was because there was nothing to make me want to go to the guitar, I had no initiative, and because of that my father and I fought, and the more we fought the more I didn't practice. I guess back then, I was rebelling against my parents.
My father, at first glance, looks a lot like me. We both have glasses, the shape of the face is similar, and we even have the same lush black hair, if you look back into his college photos. We are also similar when it comes to mannerisms and personality. We both have quick and passionate personalities to the things we love, and are more mature, but we both don't have any big interest to real physical activity. However what we truly love is to learn and the performing arts. We can just sit all day reading or solving things as ell as going up on stage and having the time of our lives. But because we are so similar, we have a tendency to always be in a fight, its like negative going against negative, but it doesn't mean we don't love each other.
Today, my sixteen year old self sees my dad as a mature man who has seen the worst in life , and only wants the best for his daughter but back when I was ten, I saw him as an cryptic old tyrant who didn't know what it was like to be a kid.
My mother on the other hand was better when it came to me practicing; perhaps because we are both girls and is more into the visual arts than performing , both attributes I have gained from her. In my opinion, she writes and sketches better than anybody I know. She had a different approach than my father; she encouraged me to practice not forcing me, which worked better. But in the end, both my parents forced me to practice and "play" the guitar.
Then one day it stopped.
The arguments, the long drives, the lessons, it all stopped. My parents, in my eyes, finally relented, they gave up on my musical education, and what I felt wasn't what I wanted to feel.
I felt empty, not to mention disappointed with myself.
I felt something was missing in my life . I didn't act like I used to, all the activities I enjoyed before, drawing, reading, singing, they all felt empty to me then.
To put it simply, it was boring, and I hate being bored.
I didn't know when I started to do it, but I slowly started to play the guitar, more and more. I just sat there, in my room, everyday plucking on the well-worn nylon clear string and while sitting there I started playing, enjoying it, for the first time.
I didn't practice, I played, of course I obviously did mistakes, but to me practice is when you were forced and playing is when have your own initiative.
I was playing the guitar, for the first time of my life.
After a month or two, parents took note of my change and started to take me back to my lessons, and this time it was more fun. My teacher and I though had gotten along before, were now finally on the same wavelength. He and I could finally see eye to eye on the same things.
I realize after mastering the guitar, this solitary instrument has opened doors I would have never even thought of entering.
It introduced me to the world of musicians, their world, their perspective, their way of life and I unknowingly came to adapt. I added a different point of view in my world. The guitar also gave me another part to myself another puzzle piece that made me who I am now. I can connect to people more socially now; conversing and broadening my horizons.
This instrument has warped my personality to a better degree, it has made me more patient, more calm, and focused, not to mention mature, and all of these traits have been reflected in my academics and social life.
It has taught me life lesson, which is common but valuable to know in life, that all things new aren't boring and you must try new things or else you will never grow as a person.
The guitar is more than an instrument to me; it's my best friend, my therapist, my translator, and more.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
