My father tortured me with his weekly violin practice , every Saturday morning at 8 o'clock, 15 feet from were I was inevitably sleeping. I can't muster any love at all for the instrument. When I was 10 he made me join the school orchestra , but he didn't buy me a 3/4 size instrument, he made me use his, I had to stretch my little arms so hard to get to the proper finger positions I often cramped during rehearsal. I tell, you, it's truly an instrument of torture in the wrong hands. My teacher begged him to get my a smaller instrument. Instead he made me hate the instrument he loved. Though Beethoven Violin in D is still my favourite music of all time.
Last edited by normhead; 09-10-2015 at 06:26 PM.