As a high school student, childhood is no longer a major
topic of discussion. Reality does not allow for wandering thoughts. We must
learn to hold onto the horse of nostalgia that constantly wants to run away.
But this time, let me indulge this nostalgic horse and let it chase after
the deep memories it wants to capture.
The violin, a beautiful and noble instrument in the eyes of others, is also
so in my eyes. I have been living and struggling with it since I was young.
Besides love, there are also traces of hatred mixed in. The forever four
strings, the constantly changing finger positions, the straight bow, the
difficult but necessary professional knowledge and skills, the tedious
practice - they have accompanied me for nearly ten years. Gradually, it
became like a necessary item in life, a companion that sailed with me.
Until, in my first year of junior high school, I met my dear partner. A few
simple conversations, a warm and firm handshake, and a wooden violin in my
hand connected us. We relied on our feelings and understanding of each other
to get through two years of training in the orchestra, art festival
competitions, exchanging musical pieces, and playing in harmony with
different parts.
The stage of Donghu High School, where our violin sounds and conversations
could be heard. "To practice the violin carefree has become a luxury," she
said to me a few months ago. Yes, the jumping tadpoles on the staff are no
longer the main melody, the stage has become the place where we enjoy music.
"Yao Dance," "Fisherman's Song at Dusk," "Spring Festival Overture," "Why
Are the Flowers So Red"...one song after another is no longer just the world
of the two of us. Encouraging each other, caring for each other, is her
violin still there? I believe it is. They are the best evidence of our
hardships, joy, and carefree moments.
To practice the violin carefree, without worrying about anything else.
Due to my partner's transfer and the busyness of our third year of junior
high, we rarely had heart-to-heart conversations with our violins anymore.
We are the same. If we could go back in time, I believe the violin cases of
the two girls would be filled with carefree and joyful memories, as well as
sweet memories.
Perhaps that carefree and joyful feeling still needs to wait patiently for
us. |