musicality
11 Jan 09 - Sunday - 5:58 p.m.
The Peanut was lying in her bassinet this morning crying. When I started playing the opening bars of the last movement of Beethoven's Opus 110, she suddenly stopped and listened for a large part of the piece. She started crying again at the inversion and stopped crying at the Coda.
I wonder a lot whether Peanut actually remember the pieces that I used to play to her while she was still inside, like the whole of Beethoven's Opus 110, the Moonlight, the second movement of the Pathetique, Bach's Partita No. 5, Robert Schuman's Dreaming from Album for the Young.
Sometimes, like this morning, it would seem as if she remembers. Other times she's just completely oblivious.
School Marm bought me a mobile that plays a Chopin Etude. I put it on sometimes when I'm changing her. It annoys her muchly because she can't catch the rotating seafood [haha]. She's especially fond of the shrimp.
One of the first things I checked when I held the Peanut the day after I birthed her was her fingers. She has these absolutely long fingers. When I saw them, I couldn't help but think Oh, she could be a pianist! even though I know it's wrong to pin such expectations on her tiny shoulders.
[And then there is the fact that her birth is sort of parallel to the mayhem that I go through to file my submissions / notices of appeal which lead someone to comment that she is truly the daughter of a lawyer. But then again, could just be her taking after her mother's tendencies. Heh.]
Then there is Mr Ong telling me before I stopped piano classes that he book her for lessons in 8 years' time and hopes that she'd be just as musical as her mother.
Oh well. Whatever will be, will be.
Wonderful Baby, I'll watch while you grow.
If I knew the future, you'd be first to know.
But I don't know nothing of what lies above.
Just as long as you live, you'll never find out.