Wednesday, March 16, 2005

hopes officially heightened

Got this email from one of the trombone professor at UNT, yesterday. Help me interpret it to mean that I will be accepted in a manner that does not jinx my actual acceptance?


Thanks for your message. It was nice to meet you and hear you play.
I'm also glad that you had a chance to work with Jan the other day.
She had good things to say about her session with you.

As you know, we're on spring break now, so we won't be able get things
wrapped up until next week sometime.

Best wishes,


Which reminds me. I should tell you about my lesson with Jan.

Did I mention that she managed to completely redefine my trombone playing? Because that would be pretty close to the truth of it. Not to forget that she also managed to boost my ego through the fucking roof.

I went in and played the last two sections of the Hindemith for her, not too badly but sounding very much like I hadn't practiced it for two weeks (which was true). She put it aside after I finished and went headlong into her spiel- how to breathe, basically. I can't explain it here. It's very yogic. We talked about what makes the sound on the instrument- nothing physical. The note we want to play in our head is what comes out of our trombone. That's a concession to all the arguments I had with Bill over the years- but it's not that I didn't believe him, it's just that he taught it to me incorrectly.

Anyway. I learned that, although all my life I've been singing alto parts and had no conception that I could sing high, I am apparently a very rare true soprano.

And that I caught on more quickly to her breathing mentality than a fair share of professionals she's worked with.

And she asked me if I had perfect pitch, to which I said no, I don't think so- and so then she said I had great relative pitch. Suck on that, Bill.

Anyway, these are the ego boosters. By the end of the lesson she had me play the Hindemith again, and I didn't recognize my playing. It was amazing.

It was nearly a two hour lesson.

I am so in love with the idea of going to UNT, studying with Jan, and coming out of it a rocking trombone player. Fuck it, it's not Texas. It's a little bubble in the middle of Texas that makes all the shit worthwhile. Shiny and pretty, even.

So my hopes are pretty high. But here's the thing: even if I don't get in, my plan was to stay here anyway and keep teaching (if it ain't broke...). So money will go into my savings every month for lessons with Jan, and who knows what'll happen next year...

Who knows indeed.