Quill

My birthday is in May. From second to twelfth grade I could not enjoy my birthday until Guild was over. "Guild" was the National Piano-Playing Auditions and it meant I had to play ten memorized piano pieces for a judge on a grand piano on a stage in a dress somewhere on the campus of the University of Missouri.

Guild was consistently a few days before my birthday and I couldn't exhale or anticipate my joyous day until my audition was over. I participated in Guild for ten consecutive years which means I earned a High School Diploma in Social Music. Do I even know what that means? No. But I earned it, and it came with a medal. The kicker is that even though I haven't had to audition in 18 years I still get the "Guild panic" every May before my birthday. My stomach tightens up, I realize I don't have to do it anymore, my stomach relaxes.

Guild taught me the rewards of practicing, how to block out scary, educated musicians (I always blocked the judges out and imagined myself at home in the living room), how to focus under pressure, and how to put mind over matter by mentally stopping my hands from sweating. Even with my mind of steel the pedal would still shake now and again. Nerves happen.

The best part of Guild was getting my report card with the judges' marks. Each year a real calligrapher wrote the participants' names by hand. I could hardly wait to see how my name would look after being interpreted by an artist. I loved my name when I saw how it could be written. I was always glad I had a "k" in my last name because a "k" seemed to be loved by the quill. My favorite years for how my name looked were '93 and '90. I also love the blob of ink on the "k" of '86.

My teacher signed my report card as well. My teacher was Anne Manahan and her husband was Stan. Stan and Anne Manahan. No lie. She went to Juilliard. I didn't deserve her.

I wonder how many years I'd have to practice to whip out a decent rendition of "Liebestraum" again. That was the piece I was most proud of mastering. Glory days, you are gone. All that remains is calligraphy.