To the Men Before Paul … I Still Love You

Today the first box of piano music that had been stored at my parents’ homes came in the mail. In it I found some of my favourite Henle Edition books. Dad chose well:  Chopin, Haydn, Czerny, Debussy, and Brahms. And the man who dwarfs them all: Bach.

Oh, Bach.

I can wait forever for Beethoven if I have you.

Oh, Bach . . . I have pined for you for so, so long.  I missed you so much.  I love your preludes, I love your fugues, I’ve played through nearly half of them while I was supposed to be getting supper ready.  I’ll try to wait until tomorrow for the English Suites, but the night is young and I know better to make promises I can’t keep.

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4 thoughts on “To the Men Before Paul … I Still Love You

  1. I miss your blogging, but I’m SO happy for you (and Bach). I guess I take it for granted that I get to lug my instrument around wherever I am. Even my husband’s bass, which is more than annoying, is portable, although now we can’t fit our family AND the bass in the car at the same time. But I always had my music. And I don’t practice. How spoiled am I?

    1. I think I am much more devoted to practicing because of my very long hiatus. I didn’t realize it had been so long until I struggled through a fugue last night. Then I realized: 6 years of babyland, 4+ years of teaching … no wonder I’m rusty! A decade without “real” music is a really big deal! (and very embarassing, please don’t tell any of my teachers.) I am never going to take music time for granted again.

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