It was only a dream...

I personally like #8 just as much as the rest of the planet seems to love #9. I'm listening to it now, and it's a bit bittersweet. You see, it's the last piece I ever played with an orchestra. It was April, 1994. I was in my prime as a flutist. It was a lifetime ago.

I remember getting frustrated with the timing of the pickups in the first movement, and working my ass off to nail the nearly impossible fingerings in the fourth. I would go the practice rooms in the basement of the theater on Saturday nights before they locked the doors, and drink bottles of cheap wine while I practiced until the wee hours of the morning (yes, I know what a bad idea that was, on many levels. I was young and foolish, but wouldn't trade the experience for anything). I would slowly walk home afterwards in the dark, singing quietly to myself.

That was a tough spring. I was working on several orchestral pieces, as well as some solo works. The toughest one was a piece by Schubert - "Der Tod und das Madchen", or Death and the Maiden. Hardest piece I ever played. But I was on. I could play anything I set my mind to. I was invincible.

I remember that last concert, and the solo performances I did shortly thereafter, like they were yesterday. The heat of the stage lights, and the cool darkness of the surrounding theater. The shaking, sweaty hands, and having to consciously breathe slowly, deeply, rhythmically. Being enveloped by a wave of sound and emotion. Focusing on each moment like the next may never come...until suddenly I found myself bowing solemnly before a sea of faces.

A month later, I left. I never went back.

Now, as I lay here on my couch, getting lost in someone else's orchestra playing my symphony, I can't help but wonder how my life would have been different if I would have stayed. Where would I be if I had not chosen to distance myself from the world of music?

I'd be dead by now, probably. Or at least in a gutter somewhere. And I wouldn't have the charmed life I've found.

But you always have to wonder. Maybe one day I'll find my way back, and make new memories.