I know what you did on Sunday

It was a day where I felt like doing what I don't normally do. If earlier, I would wait for everyone to leave the house before practising on the drums, yesterday was totally different. Even when they were there I had the urge to play. I was driven by the desire to make dad proud of me, even if I risked affecting his sanity with my mistakes and my hand speed.



So after we cleared up the rooms, I went to the central room, closed the door and inspected everything. The curtains were open, and sunlight was spilling into the room (joy !). The room had just been sprayed with Air Wick, so it really smelled good. I turned on the fan and began. Hand speed first, then basic grooves. Whatever I could think of, which lasted 16 bars or perhaps 32 bars, at different speeds, but no more than 110BPM.

I was thinking of my... (okay, let's find another term) lumière dans les ténèbres and I remembered that I had told her about an idea I had in mind. I wanted to switch the voice to taiko drums. ^_^ I didn't want to create something funny, but I wanted to create something profound. Seriously, pounding on an odaiko really makes your heart race. The effect is the same for the listener too.



So there I was. The voices were ready. The camera was almost ready... I was going to set it on video mode and hold my sticks in reverse but then......



BLAM !



The door opened with a thud. I sat up with a fright. I thought I'd be scolded because there could've been more cleaning to be done.



It was dad. Phew, I thought.



In church that evening, I asked him, "You didn't hear me, did you ?"
He said, "No, darling. I was doing work around the house."
I said, "Phew."



But truly, more than anything, I hope to be able to play in front of him without any worries of making blunders or mistakes. I hope... Soon.

« Je ressens mon cœur qui bat
Au rythme de mes pas.

Sur la route, je m’en vais.
Je ne suis plus enfant, je sais.
Mais j’espère que ce n’est pas trop tard de prier le ciel…
de me rendre des ailes. »

troisnyx*, 2009