Feeling like a proper musician

On Saturday, I decided to head into university for some dissertation and trumpet practice. When I left the library I wandered out into the cold to look for rooms to practice in.

Annoyingly, all the seminar rooms in the Main Admin Building were locked, and so was the Media Building. In desperation I tried the architecture building, and once again - all the seminar rooms were locked. The last room I tried in desperation was one of the lecture theaters and it was open!

Picking my way down the shallow steps to the bottom, I set myself up at the front and looked at the empty chairs. When I started playing it was an amazing feeling. The high ceiling and acoustics in the room were amazing!

It was the first time when playing that I actually felt what I was playing. From just making single notes in November to playing three songs and starting to play fresh from sheet music - I can really see where my progress has been made and it's so enriching. Make no mistakes, I'm still a complete beginner but I hope my trumpet playing will be with me for a long time to come

The massive question mark in the immediate future

Looking at my calendar right now, there are a few certainties which will happen to me in the coming year.

I know that I'm going back to Whitley Bay Jazz Festival for more dancing, and general merriment. I also know that my dissertation is due to be handed in sometime around April, and that after that I will feel a sigh of relief. At some point I will also turn 21, and feel so old!

But beyond that, there is a big question mark. Methaphorically speaking of course, I'm not going to be physically confronted by this thing but it does start to loom now. For the first time in my life, I have had no direction, no idea what was coming next or where my life would go. For example, the following flow chart summarises my life to date:

School, I always knew I was going to go to 6th form >>>> 6th form, I always knew I was going on to university >>>> university, I always knew I was going to progress from each year with a bit of effort.

Now what? I have always been the person who plans ahead. For example, when I was in secondary school I knew that the bus to school would arrive at 08:01, and that our house was exactly three minutes walk from the bus stop - so I gave myself 5 minutes to be safe. I have many memories of shouting up the stairwell to Lucy to get ready because I always give myself so much time in the mornings...

But I digress. This small snippet illustrates my prediliction for planning ahead, and the prospect of leaving university into nothing does terrify me somewhat. My mum keeps telling me that I have to find a job, since it would be a strain to live with her again (and severely cramped) - so it does an an element of urgency to my search. With unemployment at record levels I do wonder whether I should wait out and spend my savings whilst looking for that perfect job, or take the first thing going in the hope it will give me cash until I find the right job.

I am planning to move to London. The capital seems to be calling me - for the music, the culture and all that's going on there. Now despite the seemingly negative tone so far, I do however have some confidence I will be able to land myself a good job. I can talk to anyone, and I'm sure I have a few unique aspects which would help me stand out at an interview. Failing that, I'll wear my black and white jazz shoes and hope they will be memorable enough.

If only it were that simple?

Discovering a letter from my 18 year old self, "to the future me".

While cleaning my room tonight I made quite an unusual discovery. When I put the folder back on the shelf in my cupboard, a small white envelope fell off the shelf. On the front: "To Jonathan Holmes. DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 2012". I knew what this envelope was for, but had kept it sealed for the past three years.

Inside, was the emotional outpouring of a troubled 18 year old man - and reading it had all, the memories flooding back to me. I felt where the paper was rough after my tears had landed on it, and I remember sealing it all that time ago.

"I write this letter to you in the event that when you open this, you will realise how far things have hopefully come. I consider tonight to be a low point in our lives".

I saw myself sat at the desk behind my door, writing it that night, and I remember why. Re-reading this letter was remarkably poignant for me. Mum had just gone through a messy divorce and it was causing friction in the household, something my 18 year old self noticed

"I just feel like a silent casualty in all of this"

Looking back, it was a difficult time in my life. I have no idea how I got through it all to be honest. It's fascinating how you tend to forget about whole periods in your life when things weren't the best. I read to myself why I was writing this letter, and I just sat at the end of my bed thinking about it. Why did I do this? Casting a message into the future from one particular night in my life. Why wasn't it something more cheerful? I'm glad to say that is all behind me and I'm not firmly forward looking in life.

When I wrote this letter, the situation was bleak - yet I kept hope. The last paragraph read:

"I am very glad that I have Lucy and my friends there to support me. Alas, I have run out of emotional steam. I hope that the future you reads this and laughs at how bad it was - because the future turned out to be alright.

From a 18 year old teenager, to the future me,

All the best,

J. Holmes
06/09/09
22:48

I'm glad the future did turn out alright. I'm sure if the 18 year old me knew what would happen in the next three years he wouln't believe the change he went through.

I think he'd be happy his hopes came true.