It is unthinkable to imagine that my fingers once manoeuvred the black and white notes of the piano to create something that one could vaguely listen to. I’ve never been particularly good at playing, but I’ve always particularly enjoyed it.
I grew up in a home with a very musical mother, and some of my earliest memories are of our home being filled with the music that she made. My sister also took music as one of her major subjects, and still sings like an angel to this day.
Then there’s me – completely in love with music, with a good ear, but not exactly blessed in the music making department. That, however, does not take away from the joy it brings – both listening and playing.
This year, I committed to playing at least once a week. Being a bit of a routine girl, I made an arrangement with my mom to visit her on a Wednesday afternoon, with today being the first.
To say that it was a struggle is an understatement. Scales – something that came naturally without even giving it a second thought – wrecked my brain and turned my fingers into a sailor’s knot. Trying to figure out the notes of a grade 1 piece of sheet music, was like trying to encrypt a German message in the Imitation Game.
But be that as it may, an hour flew by in a heartbeat and I can’t wait to sit in front of this instrument that entertained me for many hours of my childhood years again in a week’s time.