Yesterday was my first harp lesson in over a month. I've missed them. I really need another pair of eyes and ears (an experienced set of eyes and ears) to help me identify those areas where I can improve. It's critical as a harpist. Most people, bless them, are so enchanted with the sound and the aesthetics of the instrument that they rarely identify poor playing. You have to be a harpist in order to appreciate the work another harpist has put into his or her presentation.
So Carolyn, with all her praise and sharp instruction, is my best asset for where I want to go. We're both acclimated to the charms of the harp. We're far less likely to be blinded by its intrinsic novel quality. We can examine my abilities for what they are, then find ways to improve them so that I can become far more able.
It feels marvelous to be drifting away from simply spending my time dreaming and wanting to really practicing. Work will set you free. (I feel less apprehensive about using those exact words in English rather than German).
My teacher lives literally right around the corner from both The London Market and Elizabeth's English Tea Shop and Bakery in Salt Lake City. I went into The London Market to treat myself to some chocolate digestives (they're cookies, not laxatives), some blackcurrant jam, and a bag of sherbet lemons. I had the wildest flashback as I was walking out the door. The door surface is covered in magnets of Underground and London street signs of various sizes. Then I could hear Joanna Lumley's voice so clearly in my head, saying, "The next station is South Kensington. Change for the District and Circle lines to other destinations. Please mind the gap." The euphoric wave of memory was most welcome and pleasurable.