early christmas

Just finished the Yuhua Harmonica Band concert, which was funnily disastrous. Being the only cello, (though I know there's no excuse), my presence was conspicuously missing from the first few bars of "Carmen". It was the last piece; the hardest one came and went without much ado. But this fateful last one, I just spaced out, strangely enough. Thus the very delayed, diva-ish entry 8 bars after the beginning. Surprisingly, 'my' alien cello could be heard despite the intimidating size of the Esplanade Concert Hall. (Quotation marks used because I haven't decided to buy it yet.)

(I apologize if the sentences don't link coherently, I'm tired. )

So today I'm back at the esplanade again, beeping in and out like I'm some product being checked out at the grocery store. The new barcode system for the passes confounds me. It is extremely dehumanising. But I suppose they want to do something to justify the $50 admin charge they impose on lost passes. The minds of Establishments - one cannot attempt to understand them.

Corrinne May rehearsal - it seems ages since the last one, until Kavin mentioned that the last one was in February this year, and again, the faint chill passes through me like a vampire (c.f. Bram Stoker). How quickly time passes.

"Urge and urge and urge, always the procreant urge of the world." (Can't remember who said it. Whitman?)

Corrinne May rehearsal - Slowly I'm seeing the character of the cello I have at hand. It's uncontrollable, quite the spoilt brat actually. Constantly demanding to be heard, continually rubbing it's sound in your face. It is loud, no doubt, like the cry of a baby, lacking the gravity that comes with experience, and the depth of sound so that the emotion carries through when you play it. More importantly, it demands to be heard alone. Today I clashed so dissonantly with my partner, it was stunningly bewildering. I felt I was fighting the cello constantly, to make it blend, to make it sound vaguely in tune, but it wasn't so much the main note but all the over and undertones that came with it. The cello had wolf notes in the weirdest places like E-flat and D, another manifestation of its attention seeking behaviour.

It was most tiring trying to reign in its sound. Because by nature I hate to stick out. All I want to do is to skulk around unnoticed. But somehow more and more people are congregating around me, claiming time that is no longer mine to give. On my way to the esplanade, passing through CityLink, seeing all these people swarming in my general direction was claustrophobia-inducing. I think I might be suffering from people phobia, but the irony is that I cling to every conversation like it is my last, and now it feels as if I'm watching myself from a distance, dissociated.

The question keeps popping up these few days - is it my problem, that The One is nowhere to be found? Perhaps I have too much expectations, and the cello suffocates even before I start playing it. There have been too many people calling me, asking me to try this cello, or that one, and I'm driving myself mad processing so many different sounds, factoring in so many other (unforseeable) variables, like warping wood or sound loss. I am paralysed with indecision, in an even more pathetic situation than Hamlet, who at least was bothering himself with existential angst.

What is this soul loss?

In vain, I hope that this concert will breathe some meaning into my existence, by reminding me of the One that came before. Her voice can sometime have that effect on people. But what if what I really need is one day away from everything and everyone? My choices are leading me in the wrong direction. Choices are paralysing, and are an irrestible invitation to self destruct.