Tomorrow is my 17th birthday. For that reason, I will forever remember the date of our "Great European Departure", as I like to call it. (That and the day theaters would finally stop hassling me over "R rated" movies).
Anyway, this last week of binge-playing music has been quite an experience in itself. See, I thought my lips were ripped before from playing the trumpet for the last eight years of my life, but I was SORELY mistaken. (See the pun. Laugh). In fact, I think amount of encouragement that circled around the brass section focussing solely on "keeping that embouchure strong" was more prevalent than my mom's packing reminders. Let me assure you, ladies and gentlemen, THAT is impressive.
In all seriousness though, experiencing any sort of discomfort within the facial region has sufficiently been worth it considering the results of this last week.
Look at us. We're two bands, two different communities, uniting as an even more diverse group, working to blend and produce one beautiful sound. That sounds amazing... and extremely difficult. But be encouraged! According to my grandma, we "definitely pulled it off". (However, considering my granddaughter status, I don't think we'd hear a Simon Cowell comment from her if we read the music upside down. *cough* Tim *cough*)
As I was writing, not every song is perfect yet (All the band teachers just smirked at that), but considering that I met the two people sitting next to me less than a week ago and we pulled off a concert, I have to smile and feel an ounce of pride for the group.
Finishing our performance was like that moment when all of the Avengers assembled and then kicked Loki's butt. (And in the future, after our foosball game, when we make the Germans sorry they even stepped onto the field). Yes, if performing jazz, Granger, Marches, and a songs like Khan doesn't show some sort of talent, we always have our fancy soccer footwork to impress our hosts. Until then, I guess all we could do is enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime trip, experience cultures we've only dreamed of living in, and make memories. Sweet 17 year old memories.
Bon voyage,
Emily Dwyer
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