From Violin Practice to Drawing Practice
The prodigal violinist returns home and relearns an old lesson about creativity, patience, and climbing the mountain one step at a time
Sometimes the things we miss the most are the ones we only understand after they return to our lives.
For me, that thing is my violin.
For years the violin has been my biggest hobby and one of the most important creative spaces in my life. When I stopped playing regularly after our move and my injury, I did not fully realize how much that world meant to me.
Until recently, when I found my way back.
Some of you already know that my biggest hobby has always been playing the violin. It has been with me for as long as I can remember. As an amateur musician your options are naturally limited, but for a while I found a place that felt truly special.
When we were living in Belgium I played with the Vlaams Symfonisch Orkest, or in English: the Flemish Symphony Orchestra. It is an amateur orchestra, but the conductor and section leaders are professionals, so it creates a very inspiring environment where amateur musicians can really grow.
Every Sunday I cycled to rehearsals with excitement. We played incredible repertoire. Pieces I had listened to over and over as a child while lying in bed, dreaming that one day I might play them myself. I can easily say it was one of the best things that happened to me during our life in Belgium.
Then we moved to the Netherlands and I had to quit. Not long after that I had an accident and broke my left elbow. The recovery was long and slow and for a while I did not feel ready to return to the violin at all.
Eventually I started playing again. I joined ensembles and even another orchestra nearby. They were good groups and I met kind people there and even made friends. Still, I often found myself comparing everything to the experience I had in the Flemish Symphony. Something always felt different. I missed the attention to detail in rehearsals, the discipline, and most of all: the repertoire.
A big part of that experience also comes from the conductor, Bart Van Casteren. He has a very clear musical vision and knows how to guide the orchestra toward it. Even when a passage feels far beyond what you think you can do, he somehow leads you there step by step. You begin to trust the process and suddenly realize you are playing things you did not think were possible before. His rehearsals combine discipline with encouragement, and I have come to realize that I perform and grow best in that kind of environment.
At some point I realized my quiet complaining was becoming tiring even to myself. One day I decided to look up what my previous orchestra was currently working on. When I saw the upcoming program I stopped scrolling immediately.
Beethoven’s and Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphonies!
Shostakovich Five has always been one of my favorite music pieces. The thought of playing it was irresistible. As for Beethoven Five, I guess I do not have to say a lot. It is one of the most popular symphonies and is considered one of the most influential work of all times.
When I mentioned it to my husband Bas he simply said, why don’t you try going back? We now have a car and the distance is not the obstacle it used to be.
So I did.
And I am so glad I did. Walking back into that rehearsal room felt strangely familiar, as if no time had passed at all.
Now I am back in the rehearsal room with them, working through Beethoven and Shostakovich, preparing for the stage again. Sitting there with my violin, hearing the orchestra around me, I realized how much I had truly missed it.
If you would like to hear the result of all this rehearsal work, we will be performing in Antwerp on May 30 and May 31. And yes, May 31 also happens to be my birthday, which feels like a rather wonderful way to celebrate it. If you happen to be nearby and would like to hear us, you can find the tickets on the website of Vlaams Symfonisch Orkest, here.
Starting Again
Honestly, returning to the violin after my broken elbow was not easy. My left arm and shoulder had become weak and lazy. It took patience to rebuild strength and flexibility.
As an amateur it is sometimes difficult to keep motivation alive. You are doing it for the love of it, but life can easily get in the way.
At one point I took private lessons again and found a wonderful teacher who helped me regain my confidence and develop a regular practice routine. That helped a lot. Still, playing alone is one thing. Playing with others is something completely different.
Being surrounded by musicians is one of the fastest ways to grow. You hear things differently. You see how others solve problems. Watching someone shape a phrase or articulate a difficult passage right in front of you teaches something that a video or recording never fully can.
This is true for almost every performing arts. And I believe it is just as true for visual arts.
Interaction matters. Being around people with different experiences and different ways of thinking pushes you forward in ways you cannot create alone.
The Mountain
When I first received the Shostakovich score I felt a wave of panic. The excitement, the motivation, the confidence, all flew out the window!
It was huge. The pages were filled with passages that required speed, clarity, and techniques I had not used for a long time. My first reaction was pure panic. I looked at the music and thought, how am I going to climb this mountain?
I think this is a very familiar feeling for anyone who starts a big project. The mountain looks magnificent and inspiring. You truly want to climb it. But the fear of the climb can feel even bigger than the mountain itself.
For a moment it blocks your view.
The solution is actually very simple. It might even sound a little boring.
You look down at your feet and take one step.
Then another.
Then another.
That is exactly what I did. One small passage at a time. One page today. Another tomorrow. Slowly the impossible started becoming manageable. I still have work to do, but when I look back now I can see the progress clearly.
The key was trusting the process and focusing on what I could do today, instead of worrying about the entire mountain.
Interestingly enough, I do not think I have ever practiced this consistently before. Perhaps it has something to do with where I am in life right now, but I am enjoying the process immensely.
The Same Lesson in Drawing
I see the exact same pattern in my drawing practice.
Whenever I receive a new project, no matter how excited I am, there is always a moment when the scale of it feels intimidating.
And again the mountain appears.
When that happens I apply the same rule. I look down at my feet and take one step in the right direction. One sketch. One study. One idea.
I also try to surround myself with people who think differently than I do. People with different experiences and different creative approaches. Their perspectives challenge me and help me move outside my comfort zone.
This is also one of the reasons I love drawing with others so much.
Drawing Together
As you know I have regular “Draw With me” sessions, where we get together and draw from reference images. These sessions are untutored, free and introvert friendly. If you would like to join me, I have two upcoming drawing sessions.
March 16, Monday, 10:00 to 12:00 CET
Winter in the City - Click here for the ticketsMarch 31, Tuesday, 20:00 to 22:00 CET
Winter in the Forest - Click here for the tickets
In the end, whether it is a symphony or a drawing, the process feels surprisingly similar. At first the mountain looks impossibly large. The score is thick, the blank page intimidating.
But then you begin.
One note, one line, one step at a time.
Right now my weeks are filled with violin practice, sketchbooks, and the quiet joy of seeing small progress appear where there used to be only doubt. And if there is one thing this experience keeps reminding me, it is that the mountain is climbed the same way every time.
You simply keep going.
Thank you for reading!
Replacing doubt with joy is always the way to go!!