She walked the halls of her new school for the first time. She always loved playing the violin but she never thought of doing it for a living until her last violin recital got her a scholarship. She was a nervous wreck though, it was a pretty prestigious arts school, you get in their from being either extremely talented or extremely wealthy and she was neither of those.
It was probably dumb luck because she knows she screwed up a few of the pieces on that recital. Her guess was her father had some really strong connections with the top brass of the schools being a well known musician himself.
Why can't I play that piece well? She asked herself remembering the recital. She crumbled to find her sheets to review them out of curiosity. She knows she screwed up on Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso, her accompanist was trying to over-power her and she couldn't keep up.
Or maybe it was on Claire de Lune. Whatever, she was here and if she isn't worth her spot now, she's willing to work for her worth.
She entered a lecture hall. Lecture hall 22. The class was already starting, the professor was writing something with a black marker on the whiteboard. Art Studies 101. She took a seat at the back of the hall and grabbed her pen from pocket.
"Welcome to art studies 101. I know some of you are asking 'why are am I here? I'm in music or digital arts, why do I need to study old paintings?'." The young professor turned around to see his students. He was younger than she expected, mid 20s probably and black rimmed glasses and 6 oclock shadow. He looked around and smiled. Her heart skipped a beat.
"because here in art studies, we're not studying paint, we're not studying executions, we're studying beauty." the professor continued "and understanding beauty helps us make good art."
He let the silence sink in, for drama probably. Then he turned to her with a big smile. "speaking of beauty, we have a new addition to our conservatory program. The daughter of Mister Pandugo. Please come up front and introduce yourself."
Shit. She wasn't prepared, this is the thing she dread would happened. She can do this, she performed on stage, she can probably talk in front of a few art school students. She slowly stood up. The awkwardness just builds up as she walk slowly to the front. The more the silence hang, the harder it gets for her. She began to compose her speech, I am…. I am…. I am…. Shit, she can't even remember her own name. Calm down. Calm down. You can do this.
"any moment now miss Pandugo." Said the Professor playfully. And there she was, standing in front of everyone.
"uhmmm, my name is….."
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