Violin

• Alannah Stevens, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2013

The metronome beats: ‘Tic, tic, tic,’ as I play along. I love my violin.

The well-polished wood gleams in the light and makes me smile. The hairs of the bow are as white and stiff as my cat’s whiskers.

When you put the two together, a beginner is able to make a noise that sounds like nails being scraped down a chalkboard. But ahh! When an expert plays, it can be spellbindingly, hauntingly beautiful.

Lessons are difficult but they have made me realise how determined I can be. A lot of work goes into becoming an expert. Learning to sight read is puzzling: the notes seem to be scattered randomly across the staves.

A performance gives me butterflies; I feel anxious. Solos especially are the times when I get a whole lot of butterflies filling my stomach. But I know that it helps me to focus.

After I perform, I feel proud and satisfied with myself.

When I perform with the whole violin school - which is about forty musicians of all different ages - I know that if I play a wrong note other people will cover me. Then I can just pick the song up without being noticed.

The well-polished wood gleams in the light and makes me smile. The hairs of the bow are as white and stiff as my cat’s whiskers.

The metronome beats: ‘Tic, tic, tic,’ as I play along. I do love my violin.