Dress, H&M | Top, thrifted Target | Shoes, Keds | Necklace, Nordstrom BP
The deep, pensive note erupted into a furious minor scale before subsiding to a whisper. The final pitch of the second phrase lingered in air for just a moment. Then, there was silence.
It was late at night, and I was alone in the rehearsal room of the music center. I was alone because thesis rehearsal had been cancelled, but I had missed the group message. I was alone, but I was happy.
The large, empty room had been a bit eerie at first, but I soon found it liberating. Because of the pressure of performance, I hadn’t felt this raw connection with music in a long time.Yesterday’s orchestra concert, for example, had been deeply disappointing—I had been so anxious after spotting my Russian lit professor in the front row that I hadn’t been able to enjoy playing.
Here, none of that mattered. I wasn’t afraid of wrong notes. I didn’t feel obligated to project a polished image. The absence of expectations and fear is freedom—and that’s exactly what I found.