"What We Play Is Life."

Astronomical Clock, Prague
-Louis Armstrong

I was talking to a friend this week, promising to get her some project material soon, really really soon!  She nodded and said, "In the fullness of time."   

Heh.  I forget that time has its own fullness when I'm not trying to cram it with my own.  Not a concept that comes naturally to me, this baby steps thing.  

No Weekly Wish this week, because I needed my scant practice time for other priorities.  I was cranky about it, but I took one look at my schedule last weekend and realized it just wasn't going to happen.  The week turned out to be even busier than expected: last-minute work, and a pianist whose maternity leave I'm covering had her baby early (not too early, though, they're fine!). 

I didn't make a wish.  No one died.  I did the best I could with the time I had. 

Hey, I think I just stumbled upon my epitaph (this entry is becoming oddly morbid... I don't mean it...).

I hope it's a long time before I need an epitaph - I have a music to learn, cookies to eat - but I like it as an intention.  I'm going to do best I can with the time I have.  Way less stressful than frantically trying to do everything. 

The time I have: getting steadier, and my tempos are more accurate.  I'm familiar with more repertoire (thanks, last year!), which takes out the guesswork.  But also - remember last year when I was talking about habits and rhythm?  Like it or not, you perform with your practice habits, and life habits sneak in there too.  Now that I'm not trying (quite) so hard to be twelve places at once, it's showing up in my playing. 

Recording with Brooke tomorrow.  We postponed it a day because I didn't have time to practice.  My perfectionist nag is telling me I should have managed my time better,  not let personal worries get the better of me as they did yesterday.  I'm flipping that side a nonchalant L.H. 3-finger and signing off to practice a little "Black Coffee".