The Ex-Future Concert Pianist




I must have been 10 or 11 when I nurtured visions of myself playing on a stage of a large concert hall. But that dream was not to be. After studying piano for maybe 14 years, I realized the only audience I would end up impressing with my playing would be... no one. Not even myself! Today, those thoughts were confirmed while struggling with a piano piece that I have studying. After a few years, I still can't get it right. Drat and a double drat!
Anything "artistic" that only some can aspire to do, I have at least learned how to do at some point in my life. I can play the piano, guitar, and marimba. I sang with a choir for some years, even earning a chance to be soloist at least once. I have acted in and even directed plays, performing in many corners of the country. I even used to paint a little and when inspiration moves me, still try to draw. Dance lessons were part of my summer repertoire. I've even written poems and articles which had received some recognition. BUT I AM NOT THE BEST AT ANY OF THESE!!!
Is it my fate that I can never be excellent at anything? That is the longing of my heart. That I will be able to do something so well that it will move people. That I will earn the respect of peers in any of these fields. But that will remain a dream.
I wonder why this is so. Is it because I was not really gifted with talent? That these so-called abilities just came with maternal requirements to be busy during summer? Or is it because I relied too much on "talent" and was simply too lazy to work on it?

Even if I find the answer, at age 49 it seems rather too late to do anything about the "talent" anyway.

Maybe I'll leave the art to Ling and the music to Bong and just vicariously bask in their glory...
Maybe I'll just work on that piano piece until I can play it with my eyes closed...
Maybe I'll get back on that stage again to get another chance to drink in all that applause...

Or maybe I'll just write my heart out. Hmmm ...

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