The feeling I had right before my sophomore recital was the same feeling I got when I was clacking up my first roller coaster hill. My chest was pounding, my pinkies were tingly, and my vision was tunneled. I walked on stage being extra careful not to drop my viola, looked out into a blur of faces, took a tight shallow breath, and started playing. Subsequent recitals and other performances have been diluted versions of the same sensations. It’s always gotten increasingly more manageable, but I found it hard to be fully relaxed walking on stage. The recital I played two weeks ago, though, was entirely different.
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