I remember when I was young teaching myself how to play piano, I would start practicing with my left hand for hours and then my right and then tried to play both hands at the same time. The moment I got it, the feeling was as though I was up in heaven. I would just keep playing the same piece again and again for hours. Still remember my mother doing housework or cooking while I played my piano. That was high, very high.
I remember when I was recruited into the Hong Kong Youth Orchestra playing clarinet. My friend and I were the only ones from the same school and playing the second clarinet (the first was for the best and there were two girls playing the third). Most of the time, both of us were at a lost and one thing good (or no good) about clarinet is that it is not as loud as instruments such as trumpet. Mistakes are not so obvious. I still remember we were playing the Wedding Song and with bars and bars of repetition, we were so utterly lost. But once in a blue moon, we would be able to play some musical pieces along with the orchestra. I remember the excitement, the high.
Today, as I was practicing my set of eight songs that I memorised yesterday, some part of the songs were effortless. I was actually enjoying playing it. Looking out of the window when I was practicing my music, trains passed by, children playing in the playground, swimmers enjoying themselves in the pool, people walking into the condo, people walking out of the condo, the greenery and the beautiful reservoir. I was in such a high. Only God knows.