London: day forty and forty-one

Another short night, then up early this morning. Alyssa and I made our way to IES where we boarded a coach bound for Stratford upon Avon. On the way there, our bus was diverted due to a major wreak on the highway that had caused a traffic jam. Our other bus which had been ahead of us luckily called and told our bus to get off the highway and take the back roads. The weather here has been uncharacteristically brutal; very strong winds and rain that has caused a great deal of flooding. Even though this extended out travel time, it was worth it for getting to drive through some of the English villages and see the countryside better – the bright green hillsides where sheep grazed. I also spent a good amount of time while on the bus to get another round of editing done on my short story. We rolled into the town after nearly a two and a half hour drive.

Upon arrival, we made our way to the Shakespeare center where we waited in line to enter the small museum which would then take us through a side door and let us into the house which Shakespeare was born and raised in.  Alyssa and I took our time going through the house, taking pictures of every corner and stopping to listen to the information guides. In one room we also had the chance to hear two actors perform a few scenes from some of Shakespeare’s work. Little did we know that our group had already finished and was waiting for us, at least not until we got a phone call informing us as such. Fortunately, by then we had finished and hurried outside to join the others. Our professor then took us on a walk, winding through the streets, past the market, and past the church/school which Shakespeare attended his earliest education, to the church in which Shakespeare was baptized and where his tomb now lies called Church of the Holy Trinity. The cathedral itself was small compared to some of the others we have been in (especially Canterbury), but it was still beautiful. I never get tired of seeing these cathedrals, even the smallest ones, and I wish there were places back home that are even half as stunning. We paid fifty pence and then got to pass through the middle of the church, past the choir and approach the altar, in front of which, on the floor, are the tombs of Shakespeare and Anne Hathaway. The epitaph carved into the badly worn stone reads:

GOOD FRIEND FOR JESUS SAKE FOREBEAR,

TO DIGG THE DVST ENCLOSED HERE.

BLESTE BE Y^E MAN Y^T SPARES THESE STONES,

AND CURSED BE HE Y^T MOVES MY BONES.

After we had completed this tour, we were free to wander. Unfortunately, because the buses had arrived late and the road conditions were still unfavorable, we had to cut out the part of the tour which would have taken us to Warwick Castle, and we had a limited amount of time even still to explore Stratford. Alyssa and I spent some time in a pub for lunch and then hurried back over to Shakespeare’s birth house where we completed getting the pictures of the outside we had not had time to get before. Then, with just enough time, we spent a few minutes in the gift shop getting souvenirs; I got my sister something (won’t say what in case she is reading – yeah you, thought you were going to be clever, didn’t ya? :P ) and I got myself a postcard which was done with an old style print press that has the “To be or not to be” speech from Hamlet on it – my favorite of Shakespeare’s works and quite possible my favorite work of literature, period. Right on the dot, we boarded the bus and headed back to London. Alyssa promptly fell asleep and I did yet another two rounds of editing before finding myself staring tiredly out into space. I cannot sleep well on buses or planes at all (well, I can’t sleep well in general, but kind of not the point), but after having gotten so little sleep for three nights in a row, I found myself nodding off for ten to fifteen minutes. After that little micro-nap, I found it easier to keep my eyes open and watched the English countryside go by as we made our way back.

Today, I spent pretty much the whole day in the kitchen at the table working on homework (much cooler in the kitchen than in my room, also I can focus easier there), and playing my guitar. I actually made some great progress today and taught myself the opening passage of “Stairway to Heaven.” My repertoire is starting to expand as I have, since December, learned “Never Too Late” by Three Days Grace and a good majority of “Animal I Have Become,” “Pain,” and “I Hate Everything About You,” Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” and “Come As You Are,” and now this first part of Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven.” I am loving having some form of music back in my life that does not bring any stress with it. Even though I would like to keep my skills on the viola, I can’t help becoming stressed even when I am trying just to play for the enjoyment of it; my hands sweat and sometimes are a little shaky, I get really hot and quickly become frustrated. I didn’t have stage fright when I first began, and I enjoyed it greatly, but as the years went by, and the more serious the atmosphere surrounding it got, the more it began to wear on my nerves. I wanted to be good, that was the problem. But I didn’t have that natural edge, never quite had the ear that could distinguish the exact pitches. So no matter how much I practiced and converted it into muscle memory, if I was slightly out of tune, I couldn’t tell. I practiced hard and played a lot throughout high school; string quartet, chamber orchestra, Coeur d’Alene youth orchestra, private lessons, played in the worship band, and additional gigs when we could get them. I tried out and auditioned for competitions and honor orchestras; but every time I failed the audition or ended up as the “runner up” it carved a bit more away on my nerves. Each time I became more frustrated, but even though I was good, I was never good enough – perpetually the equivalent of fourth place; up there, but never on the podium. The frustration compounded and with each new audition, I became more nervous so that it became a distracting. One instance, I was auditioning for the Coeur d’Alene Youth Orchestra concerto competition, got up there and the piano played the opening bars, but right as I was supposed to start, my mind went completely blank. I could not even remember the beginning note and my heart pounded as everyone stared at me; waiting. I had to go find my music, come back and start over – it was a disaster. The worse this got, the less I wanted to or saw the point in practicing and when I did, I couldn’t do so without becoming entirely tensed. By the end, my last solo performance at State Solo, I felt as though I had the flu from nerves and spent the whole day lying around, barely able to move before forcing myself to go play. I played it, left, and never looked at my score. By then, I knew that I no longer cared. I was done. In college, I wrote my name down for an audition time, went back to my dorm and spent some time deep in thought, I then went back and erased my name from the sign up, and didn’t go back. But, you see, I LOVE music, and I do want it in my life. I think it is good that viola didn’t work out for me though as it ultimately ended up not being congruent with my personality by the time I had figured that out in high school – but after a long break from music, I feel as though I am slowly getting some of it back, and this time it fits ME, and I enjoy it. I can sit for hours playing my favorite songs over and over again until my wrist is in stabbing pain and my fingers try to lock up. I never want to actually play for anyone or try to make this into a big part of my life, however. This is just for me, and it’s going to stay that way; I won’t risk losing this too.