I Miss My Violin

I remember sitting in the auditorium chairs while the orchestra conductor showed us different instruments our little hands could be wrapped around the following school year. My heart raced as she played a melody on the violin. I wanted to play like that. I remember going home and asking if I could be a violinist. Of course, my parents, avid music junkies, encouraged me to.

Opening the hard case to my ¾ sized cherry red violin was magical. I plucked the strings without picking up the instrument. It looked so delicate. I remember the first time unpacking my rosin. The simple orange cube made me feel so sophisticated, so mature, as I pressed it against the bow. To my ten-year old surprise, this small wooden instrument matured me so quickly.

I played, and practiced, and broke strings and bow strings for five years. I was a member of the school orchestra, making friends with Marina, Savannah, and Zoe. I remember having an aura of superiority over the band kids. Orchestras are so much more refined. This may have been when I was created into the artsy snob that I continue to be.

During high school orientation, we were told that we could either be a part of the orchestra or choir, but not both. My heart sunk into my stomach. I loved the way my fingers could dance over four strings and beautiful music would run through the violin and out to anyone who wanted to listen. I also loved the way I could open my mouth and sing solo to perform graceful melodies, or I could sing with fifty other students in perfect harmony to send chills down the spines of our audiences. I chose my voice. I sent my violin back to The Violin Shop, and discontinued my rental.

When I was in high school, I didn’t think too much of quitting on my violin. I loved choir, and choreography, and the mix of classical pieces with contemporary. It wasn’t until I started singing in choir during my freshman year of college that I really started to miss having the violin around. I learned notes by using the fingers they would be on the violin. I missed my violin strongly.

As much as I find writing to be a strong creative outlet for me, the violin seemed to always appeal to me. When I am anxious, I fiddle with my hands anyway, and I can’t imagine anything more proactive than playing my violin when I can’t sit still. I love music, I love instruments, and I loved being involved in the orchestra.   Obviously, I wouldn’t be as good as I was, when I was practicing, but I have a deep craving for my violin. If I could have anything back in my life, right now, it would be that cherry red instrument.

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