Blank. Oohh look, something shiny...Stop it! Focus Sakura, focus. You have to do about a million essays, cook dinner, and shake off the headache you got from, "Wear this costume, tuck your hair in your disgusting hat, walk with pointed toes while carrying a basket on your head, and don't forget to blah blah blahblah." Oh, and you promised yourself you wouldn't rant or complain on your blog.
Great.
That's too bad, because other than that, there is absolutely nothing enlightening or even remarkably interesting going on in my mind. Have you ever noticed how appealing other websites are when you have work to do? How hard it is to stay on one page and focus on an essay about the Black Death, especially when it's in a format that should never be used for a comparison essay? Ok, maybe not that exact situation, but you know what I'm talking about if you've ever been a student. You also know that your mind will start making up random crap to get you out of the situation. Oh, you're hungry Sakura. You haven't eaten anything all day. Just because you just ate dinner doesn't mean you're not going to starve to death. The kitchen's in the other room, just a few steps away. Are you really going to get in trouble for having a little snack? You can't focus on an empty stomache. Sakura, Sakura, Saakuurraa.....And so forth. Your mind won't stop nagging you, telling you that your time could be better spend elsewhere or that a 'little break' won't hurt. And now of course I'm stuck with this habit, and oh, is it a hard one to break.
But that's not why I'm blogging. I'm blogging because I have an amazing story to tell, and you better listen. I don't want to hear, "Oh Sakura, I'm not interested in cellos." or "What's the point?" I'll get to it when I get to it-besides the point of stories is the journey, not the destination.
The other day my mom and I went to Summerhays to kill some time and maybe look into replacing my bow. We saw lots of instruments including flutes, violins, and even jaw harps. Many of them were breath-taking; a few were tacky and cheap. All of them, however, were amazing in my mind. All of them held the power to take you to a world unknown to most of Earth's population. All of them were able to teach you, whether you were learning valuable life skills or just learning how to entertain your younger sibling.
We walked in and I went immediately to the strings section, where I first stroked a viola, admired a bass, and held a bow up to the light. I was broken out of my revelry by my mother coming up behind me.
"Holy crap. I would not pay $5600 for a cello like that."
I was stunned. She, my mother, the one who always says, "don't judge a book by it's cover" had taken a cello at face value! She hadn't taken it off the shelf and played it, or noted how old it was, or even asked why it costed so much. She just saw the pockmarked sides, the price tag, and walked on. I immediately took the cello down and grabbed a bow, not realizing that it had little to no rosin on it. I played the cello and was amazed at it's sound. I never wanted to put that cello back on the wall, even when my family started walkin out the door.
I realized later that I had almost no rosin on that bow, and wondered how it played so well. (For those of you who aren't string musicians, rosin is essential. Without it, there is absolutely no sound whatsoever. I have a feeling that if I'd grabbed a cheaper, newer cello, all that would have come out is SQUEAK! SQUEAK!)
So, long story short, one day I forgot to bring my cello to school. I know, I know, I'm such a horrible person. Anyway, I grabbed a cello from the back room and got it out, realizing as I did so that it was coated with dust. Not just dusty, coated with it. It didn't stop there. Either I was crazy, or the fingerboard was crooked. NOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Not the fingerboard, anything but the fingerboard! Nooo!
Ok, calm down Sakura, calm down. The point is this: Even though that cello was beautiful, it sounded horrible and was probably the worst cello I've ever played. And yet the uglier one was amazing.
So really- don't ever, ever, ever-
Judge at face value.
(Or in my case, judge a cello by it's looks :D)
Great.
That's too bad, because other than that, there is absolutely nothing enlightening or even remarkably interesting going on in my mind. Have you ever noticed how appealing other websites are when you have work to do? How hard it is to stay on one page and focus on an essay about the Black Death, especially when it's in a format that should never be used for a comparison essay? Ok, maybe not that exact situation, but you know what I'm talking about if you've ever been a student. You also know that your mind will start making up random crap to get you out of the situation. Oh, you're hungry Sakura. You haven't eaten anything all day. Just because you just ate dinner doesn't mean you're not going to starve to death. The kitchen's in the other room, just a few steps away. Are you really going to get in trouble for having a little snack? You can't focus on an empty stomache. Sakura, Sakura, Saakuurraa.....And so forth. Your mind won't stop nagging you, telling you that your time could be better spend elsewhere or that a 'little break' won't hurt. And now of course I'm stuck with this habit, and oh, is it a hard one to break.
But that's not why I'm blogging. I'm blogging because I have an amazing story to tell, and you better listen. I don't want to hear, "Oh Sakura, I'm not interested in cellos." or "What's the point?" I'll get to it when I get to it-besides the point of stories is the journey, not the destination.
The other day my mom and I went to Summerhays to kill some time and maybe look into replacing my bow. We saw lots of instruments including flutes, violins, and even jaw harps. Many of them were breath-taking; a few were tacky and cheap. All of them, however, were amazing in my mind. All of them held the power to take you to a world unknown to most of Earth's population. All of them were able to teach you, whether you were learning valuable life skills or just learning how to entertain your younger sibling.
We walked in and I went immediately to the strings section, where I first stroked a viola, admired a bass, and held a bow up to the light. I was broken out of my revelry by my mother coming up behind me.
"Holy crap. I would not pay $5600 for a cello like that."
I was stunned. She, my mother, the one who always says, "don't judge a book by it's cover" had taken a cello at face value! She hadn't taken it off the shelf and played it, or noted how old it was, or even asked why it costed so much. She just saw the pockmarked sides, the price tag, and walked on. I immediately took the cello down and grabbed a bow, not realizing that it had little to no rosin on it. I played the cello and was amazed at it's sound. I never wanted to put that cello back on the wall, even when my family started walkin out the door.
I realized later that I had almost no rosin on that bow, and wondered how it played so well. (For those of you who aren't string musicians, rosin is essential. Without it, there is absolutely no sound whatsoever. I have a feeling that if I'd grabbed a cheaper, newer cello, all that would have come out is SQUEAK! SQUEAK!)
So, long story short, one day I forgot to bring my cello to school. I know, I know, I'm such a horrible person. Anyway, I grabbed a cello from the back room and got it out, realizing as I did so that it was coated with dust. Not just dusty, coated with it. It didn't stop there. Either I was crazy, or the fingerboard was crooked. NOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Not the fingerboard, anything but the fingerboard! Nooo!
Ok, calm down Sakura, calm down. The point is this: Even though that cello was beautiful, it sounded horrible and was probably the worst cello I've ever played. And yet the uglier one was amazing.
So really- don't ever, ever, ever-
Judge at face value.
(Or in my case, judge a cello by it's looks :D)
What a good anecdote! (Or whatever you would call what you wrote.) I honestly can't believe your mom said that either. I'm don't play any instrument, and even I know that price does equal sound in instruments! (A lot of the time, anyways.)
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