|Samandriel will let you call him Alfie if you like (nearestvessel) wrote in valarnet,|
@ 2014-02-25 14:12:00
|Entry tags:||abigail hobbs, castiel, damon salvatore, elena gilbert, gabriel, samandriel|
There's something to be said for tenacity.
My audition for the LA Philharmonic (which I hadn't said anything about here for fear of somehow jinxing it,) was scheduled for this past friday. And then, of course, there was a sudden volcano and I was given the option to either brave the weather and play anyway or to reschedule. Naturally, I went anyway. That probably would've been more impressive if I weren't what I am and had to actually drive from home up into the city. Regardless, I went and played the concerto I wrote for Lucifer for Valentines on the very lovely reproduction Stradivarius he bought for me. Castiel went for moral support and partly because he doesn't much like passing up the opportunity to hear me play. It was...strange to say the least, to be standing on that stage in front of three men who truly believe that they've seen and heard so much of the world. Enough to judge a person's skill, sure, but there's a lot of other factors that go into playing than that.
I haven't felt human like that in a long while, vulnerable and nervous. This was a moment I'd been training my whole life for, and while I was on that stage playing my heart out, nothing that's happened in the past few months mattered much at all. The dreams and the pain I suffered through meant nothing. That I could spread my wings behind me and had the power to actually paint that concert hall in whatever shifting colors I wanted mattered not in the slightest. What mattered was that a brother I never thought I'd have was sitting outside the doors as a beacon of calm support basking in the sounds of a song written for a lover I never expected to meet. I gave them the very best I could while staying on book, and in the end that was the best I could do.
This afternoon, I received a phone call congratulating me on a well done audition and offering me not only a chair, but the opportunity for the occasional solo position. It's not first chair or even second, but it's still a chair. It's still my dream, and no matter how angelic I might be now, whatever too human parts remain in me can't stop alternately smiling and sitting in stunned disbelief.
As school is still technically out for volcanic clean up, I plan to spend the rest of the day with the men I love who happen to live with me though I suppose if the rest of the family decided to show up that would only make it better.
Less party. More just quiet celebration.