Give a meaningful activity
I love to play the violin, but I hate to practice it. I dislike what I consider to be the mundane but difficult process of going over each passage or line individually, trying to make each note perfect while still developing the piece as a whole. Once I have learned my piece, however, my work is rewarded as I become comfortable with the music I once struggled to learn and perfect. The notes flow out of my fingers, without thought, almost without effort. They become my voice, and I sing out of my delicate wood instrument. I not only love the music that I produce through my violin, but I also love my violin itself. My violin represents memories. It reflects the pacts my brother and I formed promising each other that we would not tell mom that neither of us practiced that day. It symbolizes my violin performance group in Chicago as we receive a standing ovation from seven hundred music teachers from around the country. Violin has been an integral part of my life since I began playing at age three. The music I produce with my violin echoes my life, changing as I change and maturing as I grow. My frustration, sorrow, felicity, ennui, and humor can all be heard as I play. Truly, my violin has become an extension of me.