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After 3 months of hard study, I no longer play the piano: some people can only be used to miss after all

Some people, after all, can only be used to miss

By davidPublished 2 years ago 12 min read

Yan Yi is not only good at calligraphy, but also good at playing and singing. These are the reasons why I admire him.

Yan Yi said that he only started learning the guitar when he was in middle school.

In the 1990s, the children from rural areas were very poor. Yan Yi saved a huge sum of more than 700 yuan from the limited living expenses given by his family, bought a dual-purpose electric and folk guitar, plus a thick guitar tutorial, and started self-taught.

He spent a year practicing to the point where he could play and sing by himself, and he also won the title of the top ten singers on campus.

When I said this, the sun in the early summer was just right, and I was fascinated by the literary atmosphere of Yan Yi. During the day, as long as there is a little time, we will get tired of being together, and there will always be endless words. Or, if you don't say anything, just listen to the birdsong and the wind, and you will feel wonderful.

Yan Yi always said that learning guitar is a very simple thing. The more I listened, the more eager I became to learn, and like a child, I insisted on asking him to teach me. A spark flashed in Yan's eyes, and he even shouted, "Ruzi can be taught."

As soon as he was happy, Yan Yi said that he had a good violin in hand. Although it was a little old, it was easy to use, so why not use it for me to practice. I smiled and said, "That's good!"

So, the old guitar and a yellowed piano book passed into my hands.

Hikoichi is a kind person. This old guitar has been used for many years. Although the guitar is old, the tone has not changed. Even the used picks are intact.

Hikoichi carefully tuned the tone for me. Caressing this old guitar is like touching an eighteen- or nine-year-old teenager in the air. In that time and space, as soon as the boy put down the guitar in his hand, I gently stroked the strings.

At that time, Zhang Xinzhe's love songs were played on the radio every day, and we were still so young.

I got the violin, and I was so excited that I couldn't help myself. My ten fingers, like soldiers who didn't listen to the command, slid over the strings in a panic, unable to find where they were supposed to be. When I held down this string, the other became loose. .

Yan Yi held back his laughter, and pressed the ten panic fingers one by one. I couldn't help but look up at him secretly, the silver threads that could be seen in the short inch were standing upright, so stubborn, like their master, resolute and determined.

Although I am a stupid student, the victory is that Master is very powerful. Over time, I actually quickly mastered the identification of strings and frets, and was able to dial out a few tones accurately.

"Forget it, that's the end of the day. After I go back, I will practice my monophony and become proficient." Yan Yi carefully arranged the homework and ended the first class. I let out a long sigh, and a few beads of sweat appeared on my forehead.

Compared with Yan Yi, who went to middle school, my musical literacy is really poor.

It has to start from childhood.

When I was in junior high school, my music teacher was a chubby middle-aged man who could play the erhu. He was a bit of a folk artist. Mr. Li is humorous and humorous, and the class is lively. If it weren't for what happened later, these childhood memories would be so beautiful.

On that day, the teacher was playing the piano on the podium, and below was a group of children shaking their heads. Outside the window, the huge camphor tree was rustled by the wind. The little boys raised their necks and sang loudly: "Let's swing the oars, the boat pushes the waves away..."

Full of expectations and longing, I happily took a music class. The second class is the piano class. The piano classroom is on the third floor opposite, like a sacred temple. Only the classes who are in the music class can go. When the teacher announced that our class was going to go to the piano classroom, there was cheers in the classroom.

But the teacher looked at me and said embarrassingly, "Forget it!"

At that time, I was a girl who went to school on crutches.

Teacher Li's sudden compassion was almost contemptuous, easily destroying a child's love and passion for music.

These pasts are naturally incomprehensible to a versatile middle school teacher and student. Fortunately, the tutorial that Yanyi sent is old and detailed, which is really to my liking.

As soon as I got home, I couldn't wait to take out my guitar and sit in front of the window in the evening to practice. After practicing for a while, although I still felt cloudy and foggy, it seemed like I had returned to my teenage student days, and I felt ecstatic with a little progress, and I was so happy that I would fly.

The next day, with the first ray of sunshine in the morning, I went out with my guitar on my back. When passing through the spacious unit compound, Lu Yu's colleagues asked me, "Hey, why, you still play the piano?"

I smiled shyly, bowed my head and walked upstairs.

As soon as the bell rang for lunch in the cafeteria, I quickly picked up my guitar and rushed downstairs. Anxiously, he took two bites of rice and drove straight to a mountain a few kilometers away. The day before, I made an appointment with Yanyi to go hiking at noon.

On that high mountain, we sat on the grass, watching the clouds, listening to the wind, and listening to the birdsong. Floating clouds passed low overhead, and the treetops rolled over in waves.

Yan Yi took the guitar and skillfully played Alan Tam's "Favorite in My Life".

I put my chin on my hands with admiration and listened in ecstasy.

After I learned single-string notes, my path to learning the piano became more and more slow, and those ever-changing chords often cluttered my mind. I'm a little annoyed. In fact, rather than playing by myself, I prefer to listen to Yan while singing and playing.

When I was obsessed, I couldn't help but clamored to learn the tune.

Yan Yi opened the book and picked out the song "Night of the Military Harbor" for me. I can't help but grin, this song is too old. But Yanyi insisted that he practiced from this song in the first place. So, I started to practice according to the book.

I thought to myself, when I have mastered all the chords, I must play the most popular "Ordinary Road" for you to listen to.

In the slow mountain wind, I played the first piece of music in my life, syllable by syllable.

On sunny days, we always go to the mountains, to the railroad tracks, to the riverside, to the abandoned gardens, to the barren hills, and to all the hidden places in the little world for a walk. The wildflowers are in full bloom and the vegetation is luxuriant, just like our swaying heart and the youth that seems to come back.

When we have nothing to do, we often drive along the highway.

By chance, at the junction with Linshi, we found a secluded karaoke hall. Although we are over the age of wandering, this does not affect us closing the door, hiding in the box and quietly learning the guitar. When we are tired, we pick up the microphone and play dozens of love songs in a row.

Yan Yi dreamed of becoming a singer when he was a high school teacher. Although he has rarely sung for so many years, when he started his voice, the magnetic baritone made people fascinated.

Although the karaoke hall is private and comfortable, it will not open until the afternoon. Sometimes, when it was too early, we walked around the road in circles. In a remote urban-rural junction, a pair of middle-aged men and women with guitars seemed so out of place, just like the osmanthus trees in May, full of white morning glory.

After returning home from a small gathering for a day, I sat quietly by the window, wandering in the memories of the day. Play a few notes first, practice your hands, then practice the chords one by one. After practicing for a while, I began to practice "Night of Military Harbor".

After about two weeks of practice, I complained to Yanyi that this was too difficult to pass through, and it was difficult to understand.

As soon as Yan took the guitar, he fiddled with it a little, and then he played it all the way. I was stunned that I didn't understand his flipping fingers. So, Yan Yi patiently demonstrated how to play this prelude. Finally, I learned the first complete guitar piece in my life.

As a result, I started to play casually, and Hikoichi stopped pointing me from time to time. My second piece is "Ordinary Road" for the c chord.

This is one of my favorite songs, the only trouble is the strumming in the second half. Strumming looks cool, but it's actually hard to grasp the rhythm. The same guitar, in Yan Yi's hand, played with ease, but when it came to mine, it became dry and stagnant.

Looking at my frustrated look, Hikoichi couldn't help laughing. He said that it took him a year to learn to play a complete piece from the beginning. And I've only been playing for two months, and I just wanted to eat a fat man in one bite.

So, every evening, under the window of my house, people who pass by can always hear the sound of my persistent violin, sometimes like a dry spring whimpering, sometimes like a yellow warbler’s first cry, and sometimes like a thunderbolt, the mud and sand fall down without any rules. Play it back and forth, it's always those two tunes.

Those who pass by here every day will surely guess what a diligent young man is behind the curtain.

They could never have imagined that behind the thick curtains, it was a middle-aged woman who was about to pass away.

The musical dream that was left behind 20 years ago was reconnected because of a wonderful fate.

Gradually, "Night of Military Harbor" has become very proficient, and "Ordinary Road" is also very decent. When everyone plays and sings, their eyebrows are so bright that they seem to be able to hold a spring when they reach out.

From late spring to midsummer, I learned two pieces. This progress is quite rapid. I imagine that, if things go on like this, a year later, I will be able to play and sing with Yanichi.

Every once in a while, I always have to ask: "Listen, have you made progress?"

Yan Yi always laughed without saying a word, and even took the guitar when his hands were itchy, and gave me a paragraph like a mountain and flowing water.

The days passed quickly. In those afternoons in late spring and early summer, we were often so sleepy that we couldn't open our eyes, but forced ourselves to refuse to rest. Those precious lunch break time, we all used to linger in the mountains, white towers, rivers, railway tracks, abandoned gardens.

If only time could stand still! I think that one day I will realize my musical dream, and one day I will be shoulder to shoulder with Yanichi.

But the world is not up to people, what should come will always come. Three months later, my journey of learning the piano came to an abrupt end.

Yan Yi wrote me a long letter for the first time, the only one and the last letter.

I know that there is no eternal feast in the world, and the secret time that belongs to us will eventually come to an end. I accepted this ending with tears in my eyes and returned the original old guitar that he had treasured for 20 years.

I used to love this guitar so much. Countless times, touching it, I seem to see the eighteen-year-old Yanichi, that youthful boy. I know that this guitar means a lot to him, and it is also very precious to me.

When Yanichi gave it to me, it was like giving me his hidden youthful feelings. This is a secret that belongs only between the two of us. The happiness conveyed by the sound of the piano, through the hidden spiritual passage, arrived at a place of flowers that no one knew about.

With the return of the guitar, a door that was open to me has since closed. I'm always locked out of the door.

Fortunately, I still have a piano, a new one that can make my fingers drip with blood. At dusk, I still sit by the window and fiddle with the strings with all my strength. The new string spacing is very high, and it really hurts the hand.

"Don't play, hurt your hand."

A voice seemed to be in the ear to discourage. But the more this is the case, the more I push hard, as if to punish myself with pain, as if to use tears and pain to pay homage to the lost and found youthful dream.

Until my hand was so painful that I couldn't continue, I finally couldn't help giving up the piano and never touched it again. Maybe, in this life, I only need to play one song well. Maybe it's enough for one person in this life to hear me play the piano.

I don't need to prove anything to the world, some dreams can only be used for nostalgia and longing after all. Those who chase the light do not need to capture the flashing fireflies in the dark night.

Even if there is no piano sound to accompany in this life, on some nights with raindrops on the roof, I can always hear it playing in an old dream.

This stringless violin of nature is the rain hitting the bananas, the wind blowing through the bamboos, the red mud cooking wine, the chai door knocking, and all the sounds of nature.

It played clearly in the bottom of my heart through the thick years, and it will definitely be transmitted to the heart of another person through this wonderful world at a certain rhythm.


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