I need help! I was thinking of putting this under the "Topic of My Choice". Any edits would be helpful.
I was first exposed to Bach while in the womb. My mother, a huge advocate of classical music, wanted her children to play the piano. Rather than playing with friends, it was expected that I practice for two hours everyday. I screamed and cried and threw my fists in the air but all of it amounted to nothing.
Everyday after school I would walk into my house and adjacent to the brick-red walls of the living room, was a giant, mahogany oak structure. Anger would fill my little body. I just couldn't understand why my mother would do this to me. While all of the other children were hop-scotching down the sidewalks or creating scenarios with their Barbie's, I would be at home, sitting on a hard bench, repeating the same silly songs until I perfected them. I was in a prison of F Flats and C Majors.
A week later, a knock on the door echoed through the house. On the opposite side was a woman in a tacky blue outfit. Her name was Mrs. Lee, a 60-year-old woman with scarce yellow hair covering her very pale scalp. My feet dragged on the tile floor and I sat on the bench. My back remained slumped despite the number of times Mrs. Lee told me to straighten up. I tried to make this lesson so difficult she would never want to come back again. Looking prim and proper, she sat down, and began the lesson. I watched as her hands gracefully move along the keys as she told me of all the scales and chords.
"Okay Christine," she said encouragingly, "I want you to repeat what I just did." I smiled, placed my finger on the key, and pushed down. The minute my finger pushed the key down a lush sound enriched my ears. Every time the tip of my finger toughed those ivory keys, a spark deep inside my soul was finally ignited. I struggled, but that only motivated me to improve. That lesson I learned "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." The next few months I learned more songs, all of which were childish and simple. I started moving on to classical composers like Beethoven, Debussy and Vivaldi.
After I entered high school, I decided to cheat on the piano. I experimented with other instruments like the harp and guitar, but none satisfied me like the piano did. Finally, I had enough. I sat down on the bench, opened a book, and began to teach myself "Fur Elise". I already knew how to read notes and soon I was able to play the entire song flawlessly. It became my goal to learn a new song by the end of every month. By the end of my junior year, I had mastered a variety of songs ranging from Brahms' "Hungarian Dance" to Chopin's "Fantasie Impromptu".
Music is often called a universal language. Every listener hears a different story in a song, whether it be of love, life, or turmoil. Piano has increased my knowledge of culture and taught me discipline. When feeling "out of tune", a simple song or even a scale allows me to channel my emotions and think more clearly. Just like a piano, the outcome of my life all depends on how I play it.
I was first exposed to Bach while in the womb. My mother, a huge advocate of classical music, wanted her children to play the piano. Rather than playing with friends, it was expected that I practice for two hours everyday. I screamed and cried and threw my fists in the air but all of it amounted to nothing.
Everyday after school I would walk into my house and adjacent to the brick-red walls of the living room, was a giant, mahogany oak structure. Anger would fill my little body. I just couldn't understand why my mother would do this to me. While all of the other children were hop-scotching down the sidewalks or creating scenarios with their Barbie's, I would be at home, sitting on a hard bench, repeating the same silly songs until I perfected them. I was in a prison of F Flats and C Majors.
A week later, a knock on the door echoed through the house. On the opposite side was a woman in a tacky blue outfit. Her name was Mrs. Lee, a 60-year-old woman with scarce yellow hair covering her very pale scalp. My feet dragged on the tile floor and I sat on the bench. My back remained slumped despite the number of times Mrs. Lee told me to straighten up. I tried to make this lesson so difficult she would never want to come back again. Looking prim and proper, she sat down, and began the lesson. I watched as her hands gracefully move along the keys as she told me of all the scales and chords.
"Okay Christine," she said encouragingly, "I want you to repeat what I just did." I smiled, placed my finger on the key, and pushed down. The minute my finger pushed the key down a lush sound enriched my ears. Every time the tip of my finger toughed those ivory keys, a spark deep inside my soul was finally ignited. I struggled, but that only motivated me to improve. That lesson I learned "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." The next few months I learned more songs, all of which were childish and simple. I started moving on to classical composers like Beethoven, Debussy and Vivaldi.
After I entered high school, I decided to cheat on the piano. I experimented with other instruments like the harp and guitar, but none satisfied me like the piano did. Finally, I had enough. I sat down on the bench, opened a book, and began to teach myself "Fur Elise". I already knew how to read notes and soon I was able to play the entire song flawlessly. It became my goal to learn a new song by the end of every month. By the end of my junior year, I had mastered a variety of songs ranging from Brahms' "Hungarian Dance" to Chopin's "Fantasie Impromptu".
Music is often called a universal language. Every listener hears a different story in a song, whether it be of love, life, or turmoil. Piano has increased my knowledge of culture and taught me discipline. When feeling "out of tune", a simple song or even a scale allows me to channel my emotions and think more clearly. Just like a piano, the outcome of my life all depends on how I play it.
