I had my first "fall" piano lesson yesterday.

Having run through the "accelerated advanced beginner" books I had been working from, my teacher decided to go a different route - I have a new theory book to work from (I really do like that she teaches theory along with the technique; for one thing, it makes things make more sense to me. For another, my brain likes it: "Here's a new pattern-language for you to play with! It's kind of like math but kind of not!"). I also have a book of warm-up exercises to work on.

And more sheet music. I'm still working on "Moonlight Sonata" (and I think my progress was pretty good; it's an arrangement but not greatly simplified and I can sort of play the entire first page - up to the point where the chords start changing and you go higher into the treble register with the right hand).

She also handed me a book of arrangements of "popular" pieces and said, "Flip through this and see if there's anything that interests you"

It's....an INTERESTING....compilation. It has several pieces from recent Disney movies ("You've got a friend in me" "Can you feel the love tonight," something from Tarzan). It's got "My Heart will go On" from Titanic (aaaagh, holding up a crucifix), "Hey Jude," something from Les Miz, and YMCA (yes, THAT YMCA).

Oh, it also has Ob-la-dee, Ob-la-Dah but it omits the verse about Desmond's sex-change (or I always presumed it to be such; maybe he's just a transvestite).

But I did find two that I wanted to work on. The first one, the theme from Mission: Impossible, I wound up rejecting for now because I think the odd rhythm would drive me a bit nuts at this point. And I liked my second choice better, anyway.

It was the theme from Chariots of Fire. I chose it in part because back when I was still just DAYDREAMING about learning to play the piano someday (even before the possibility of me getting my piano arose), this was one of the pieces that I thought, "It would be neat to be able to play that."

And now I'm working on it. True, it's a somewhat-simplified arrangement (and somehow, that does matter to me. Just as I'd rather read the unabridged form of a book, I'd rather play the "real" piece, but that will have to wait for now, I guess). But it's a good enough arrangement to sound reasonably like the original. Including the odd little "boom-ch-ch-ch" bit in the deep bass ("Like distant drums" goes the stage-direction on the music).

Right now I'm working on the first ten measures of it but will admit to "playing forward" (into the section with dotted eighth notes) just to see how it will sound.

It makes me happy to be working on stuff like this again. I really do think having the motivation of "you are going to be playing this for your teacher" is what I need to sit down and work on the piano. (Hopefully, eventually, I will be sufficiently motivated to work when I'm just playing for myself).

One of the things - I know I've said this before - that I like about the piano is that my success at it depends almost entirely on me. On my sitting down and practicing, on my putting in the necessary work. So many of the other things I do depend on other people to succeed: with grantsmanship, you can write a fantastic proposal, but if funding is limited or if someone writes an even more fantastic proposal and they need all the money available, forget it. With journal articles their acceptance is dependent on reviewers and editors, who are human and can in some cases make mistakes or who can have axes to grind. With teaching, even - if you get a classroom full of "don' wanna be here" people, that affects my mood and affects my teaching. (And it's harder to teach when you try to get a discussion going and are met by stony stares).

But with the piano, it's all on me - if I work hard, I can see myself succeed. And I like that.

It's almost a little bit like some of the reading I do (I'm continuing with The Tempest) - I don't HAVE to do it, but I feel like doing it makes me smarter and better and happier. (I do think that Shakespeare's comedies - and I guess you class The Tempest as a comedy, though I suppose it's technically a romance - are some of the best "take you out of the dreary here-and-now" type of reading. I love the language. I love the idea of this old guy inhabiting an island with his daughter, and believing that his library is "dukedom enough" for him or however the line goes. It's a nice antidote to people screaming about health insurance reform or the endless treadmill of stories about the bad economy.)