"Shenandoah"

I love this song, have loved it for many years. To me it is lush, and river-like, simple and simply beautiful. I also forgot to mention that we are now, and have been for a few days, in the new folk song section of this book. Just one more section to go, and less than three weeks left of posts.

I'm struggling with my need for an audience, for a certain kind of attention. I am heartily disliking even thinking about this struggle, which feels incredibly child-like and needy, but it is there: I still need to be heard and seen by the people I care for. It's an issue with this blog, certainly. I'm leaning towards continuing this process here, the benefits to my singing and piano playing and writing practice easily outweigh the lack of readers. I still haven't given up on increasing the readership a little, as well. But even if I can't, I think I'd be content with writing these posts to my imaginary audience. That would still fit the practice.

There are few people who really understand what it means to me to be playing the piano, actually taking lessons, finally: my Mom, my oldest friend, Erica, and Erica's mother, who is an honorary parent to me. After two years of taking lessons, this last weekend my mother became the first of these three to actually hear me play. For various reasons, it still didn't work. My mother still did not have the chance to really hear me play, as far as I'm concerned, and I still feel very unhappy and unresolved around the whole thing. Again the question is: How much do I need an audience? And how immature is it to be hurt when my audience is not present for whatever reasons? Why do I care--either about being heard, or about appearing immature?