The Calm Before the Storm
I did, once, underestimate my practice. It was when I was in that hazy time in life, when you are both a student and starting to make a career. Half child, half adult. I no longer had someone checking on my progress, making sure I was ready. And this particular concert was my Kennedy Center debut.
Nightly Scribbles on my Hand
I slept until 11:10 AM today, my plans for an early, productive day completely shot. Turning over, I stretch my weary arms, looking down at the illegible blue markings on my left hand.
Violin, Guinea Pigs, and Spilled Beer
In Berlin, an old woman came to me after a concert with tears in her eyes. She grasped both of my hands, and said she had not heard that sound since she was a child. I told her that it was the sound of my teacher Felix Galimir, who left Vienna as a young man in 1938, and who taught me the soul of old German violin playing. He taught me how to make people cry.