||[Mar. 7th, 2004|01:21 pm]
I despair. I am never going to be any good at the damn piano. I'm playing like three hours a day here, and. . . phooey. *perseveres* Although I never put this much time in before except when I was bored at school and spent half the day in the music hall noodling. So we shall see. . .
But I swear, my hands have shrunk! I can just about play an octave chord now, but I can't do anything with it. I used to be able to fiddle around over ten keys. This distresses me. And my hands start to ache after 45 minutes. Little and often, I suppose. And I must have the darn thing tuned.
I suppose I should also pull my finger out and play with that violin libellum's father has loaned me, but that would entail getting hold of some teaching material. I don't know if I could ever be any good, anyway - my little finger is really short compared to the others, which makes things. . . interesting.
At some point I should tell what went on on thursday (went to Wales to film a nude scene with Johnny Depp for 'The Libertine', and yes, I am serious) but for some reason I have no desire too. I am strange.
There are many things I should do, I know this. And yet I sit on my backside and don't do them. I despair of myself.