When I stepped out of the assessment room, the fog in my head was more than palpable. It had been such a bane during the Ear Training Assessment, when I tried to sing one note, I could not get it. I could not complete the octave, intervals grew in size. Everything was literally falling apart. My grade was far from stellar, proving the previous statement quite well.

I failed to mention that I was suffering from a sore throat, and there was that fog in my head.

I reckoned to the waiting examinees that I was coming down with something.

Good acquaintance Mandric had a better guess: It just wasn’t my day.

I think he hit the nail on the head.

It was a pain to think at that point in time. Even now it’s difficult to do that.

I decided that it was a good idea to see the doctor about it.

Kathryn went in for hers, and she did very well, compared to my score. Knowing my standards, I knew that I could score better, but no thanks to whatever bug I was coming down with, my score was pallid compared to the others.

I was discouraged, the resurfacing of my recent music exam threatened to occur, but I determined that I would not do anything so foolish (and degrading) and bottled up my feelings - for a good reason, and I’ve gotten over it.

On my way home, Mandric joined Kathryn and me on the MRT ride. He had to go a stop after ours to attend to his upcoming choir performance technicalities.

There, I got the chance to ask him about something I wondered about him and at least half of the course – why was everyone a last-minute rusher?

His answer was simple enough: He rather let it flow out his way than force out the music of his self.

Then I chewed on it, literally gnawing it to pieces.

If this course had enrolled its students via talent and skill, I would have been light years away from it.

Yet, I’m here because I made the cut academically.

Skill-wise, to admit things most honestly, I think I’m in the low-mid area of the well. (There is such a thing as low-mid, and high-mid, in mixing live music.)

I wondered how I was to survive in the field of work I have put myself into. I needed skill, and somehow I was scraping by with mainstream skill. Play the chord, check. Play the bass note on the keyboard, check.

Making a piece that would wow? Nope.

My other classmates, however, were capable. I do mean the cream of the crop, obviously.

Then again, what I have done for my assignments was obviously why I was not a stellar student: Something that scraped close enough to new age, but not exactly touching there. No funky beat that would promise a few heads nodding. No catchy phrases or music that followed an exact theme or mood. No interesting chord progressions.

Just plain simple… music. At least I could call it music.

I wonder how I would make it in the business.

As far as I knew, my academic skills and ability at the studio mixer was good enough, and I was developing a listening ear to the tiny and important details to any piece of music. Maybe I could go as a producer. That’s the person who makes sure the music the artiste has been given the right effects and sounds good in a CD and so you don’t have to attend concerts just to hear them.

But, right now, it would look far from good in my portfolio.

Mandric mentioned casually that he aimed to produce at least an album or six songs to showcase his skill by the end of the three years we were to spend in polytechnic. The first one is going to draw to a close very soon.

I reflected, and all I could really do was to shake my head.

If I wanted to get anywhere in my course and make that portfolio look good, I needed to improve in many areas. One was Ear Training, most definitely. Another, my skills and ability to play the keyboard. Another, well, to do something about it and stop talking the talk and leaving it be!

And to make things look a little brighter, I looked on the optimistic side: I had a Grade Seven under my belt. Others in the course, many others, could not say the same.

What was more, I enjoyed genres that others could easily listen to and still say is calming and nice. Others go strictly in a genre they prefer. Given the chance, I may be able to do these different genres too. Just watch me. (I hope this isn’t my blown ego hoping to inflate itself.)

Finally, I play the electone. That itself takes a genre of its own, as it can produce songs that others compose but in a different manner. If I played one song on the electone and played that same song from a CD, it sounds distinctively different. If the manually-played one is arranged properly and well enough, one will find both options tasteful.

And I would be able to make my own compositions and record them straight from home, all instruments, almost an orchestra, at the ready. Now, who can have that?

But, still, it would be better if I took on the task to improve, no matter how daunting it would be. It’s possible, especially if others around me could do it.

So, with a ribbon around my finger and a large tub of chocolate ice cream, I declare a short hiatus from the writing pad and a fierce wooing with the electone and piano.

May the most talented fingers win!