First of all I began hearing of other adult musicians (there's more than just fiddle there) speak in the same beaten up way - even adults who are WAY better players than I am. We have in common that we started learning within the last 5 years or so.
Then I just kept listening to that voice that kept telling me to keep my heart open - which is what playing the violin makes happen to me. (The rush of huge emotions screaming for attention then drowning out what ever else is happening.) So I moved myself down to the Oh-So-Beginner group where these two fabulous women took us note...by...note through each song (five in all for the week). They were so kind. May the Universe shower them with blessings. By Wednesday I was actually playing the songs so often that even amidst keeping my children dry (its been an unusually rainy August here in Maine), and encouraging them in their endeavors, and hearing the strains of 229 other instruments come winding through the woods: I was able to play the songs with a minimum of mistakes. And guess what. I began to see that it was fun.
I am still processing this. It is huge to be an adult learning at the rate of a child (very fast). And I am learning alot about what love and trust have to do with that. So: a Gift indeed, and I am grateful.
And when the head of camp called for "specialty workshops" (not necessairily musical in nature) I of course brought out my ATC supplies...
About 25, or maybe more, people came and got a whiff of what we already know: can't hardly get enough of this stuff. Yay.
The sad part of my post is that I brought along most of those cards that I had been working on from the last post, adding little pictures of violins and lines of verse from some of the songs that we'd been learning. When I went to work on them this morning I am stunned to say that I cannot find them. While it is still possible that I have misplaced them, I have a bad feeling that they were taken from me.
I also brought along a favorite songbook: Rise Up Singing, for artists to get lines of verse for their cards too. I told everyone not to cut it up, but look: someone did.
Clearly, whoever did that realised their error and at least returned all the cut pages to the tabletop, but she didn't apologise, and it was a surprise this morning to be flipping throught the cut up book and realise what had happened.
So, an open heart, and fun, and maybe some confidence, and some ouchies too. Ain't that just the way.
Sounds like a topic for a country western song...