When the Music is Over

Here I sit in my kitchen, on what would normally be the Sunday night before Monday's workday ("...not that there's anything wrong with that," as Seinfeld would say). It's just that after a weekend containing a full day of chamber music and a concert, it's over now. My spring Castro Valley Chamber Orchestra season ended this afternoon with a rousing performance of Borodin's Symphony No. 2, Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition and some very entertaining music from the bayan--the Russian button accordion. That's Mr. Borodin at the left.

I've written on this concert already--but the point is, what do you feel when something you've been looking forward to is over? After every concert, I feel the sense of accomplishment of a job (pretty) well done -- remember I am an amateur -- and a feeling of completion. And, I don't have to work on it anymore, so it's a little like freedom (school's out). But--when we finish a piece, it goes away. I no longer play it, and although it's added to my repertoire, and nowadays, to my iPod, it's over. So I miss the piece too. And, of course, I'll miss seeing my fellow orchestra members all summer, too.

As I've been harranguing my son lately, there's nothing quite like the enjoyment of accomplishing a goal. It's doing something with a purpose--not simply receiving something you like or want. It's earning it. I wish I had understood this earlier, but perhaps this knowledge, too, is something you have to earn.