I always wanted to learn to play the piano. I played Clarinet all through middle school and it really stuck with me. I remember practicing for solos and my band director would play the piano accompaniment along to my music. Together, it was really quite beautiful, but piano in itself really held its own. It didn’t need me. That was when I realized I wanted to learn to play.
But alas, I came from a family that could not afford piano lessons. My clarinet had been expensive enough! So when I came to Transy and heard they offered free music lessons – for credit, as well – I knew I would sign up for piano at some point.
Last term, when designing my schedule for this fall, I decided I would go for it. It looked really hard (because every finger seems to be doing something different and oh my gosh there are peddles) but I knew I needed to give it a try. I wanted to make notes fall from the piano and float around the room like a magical invisible snow.
When I walked into my first lesson I was kind of nervous. I didn’t know much besides where middle C is located. My professor took it slow and gave me helpful tips about how I should hold my hand and how often I should practice, among other things. She put me at ease and motivated me to learn.
Fast forward to the present, a little over a week later. This morning I got up to go to the practice rooms in MFA before anyone was there. I slunk in, turned on the lights, and scooted onto the bench. I experimented using the fingers of my hands for different things. I thought: hey, look! I’m really doing this!
Then I got into the piece I was working on. A simple, but well-known tune. It wasn’t just magical anymore, to hear the notes flutter and encompass me. There was nothing but this song. I began to sing the lyrics. Everything fell away. Time. Concerns. There was only the piano and I; music in a way I’d never known it.
I may be an English major who deals primarily with words and thoughts and concepts, but it was great to set all that aside and allow my fingers to do the talking.