The absurdity of the classical ideal.

With regard to classical music:

I've been working on the Brahms F Major cello sonata over the past few weeks, and am lucky enough to have a run-through partner that doesn't mind all of my humps and bumps in preparation for the performance.  And anyway, the first run-through made my pitfalls glaringly obvious... at the time, I really hadn't learned my part properly, and there were many places to lament.  So I spent many, many moments, with metronome inching its way up to an acceptable tempo, but still feeling the dread for those tricky little spots.

Then today, I realize that those tricky spots last for such an instant in the grand scheme of things.  I've spent what will equate to several hours for perhaps literally two seconds of music.  And then when we put things together today, those two seconds were so fleeting and unimportant that it felt laughable, the amount of time I had dedicated to their fluidity.  And the clincher is that, upon this realization, I will not stop trying to perfect those two seconds.  I'm not sure where that puts me, but I do know that as silly as it seems, I will not stop my attempts at the absurd.

Here we go, Day 318: