1)

I just finished my first hour of practice in my new surroundings. It felt good to get up, walk ten steps, put on a pair of headphones, and begin to play the piano. It brought back many many memory's of when I would play for hours on end, just thinking my life through.

Today one of the last things that I thought about was Elizabeth Bennett's love for Mr. Darcey. How did it come about? At what point does she actually love him? When she sees his house? I don't know, was it that portrait of him, with the housekeeper in the background telling her of his kindness and goodness. Is that what love is? An appreciation of another's character. I did not suppose to put a definition to love while practicing, but I thought it worth thinking.

Then I made a mistake, time to back up and practice that section. I realized what I was thinking about and wondered how in the world I had arrived at such a thought. So I started to back track. And my mind wandered into Bingley and (oh what's her name)....Jane's love. This once again was character, but in all the movies they put him out as such an idiot. I don't know what she saw in him.

By this time in my practice I realized I should stop thinking about such books and movies and decided that the section I was playing was horrible...so I practiced that for the next 10 minutes, and then moved on to the next piece. Then the alarm went off for 8.05 and here I am

Fuhton