When I was four
When I was four I discovered how to communicate with my world, and it wasn’t with words. Mostly this is because words were hard for me, like they were just foreign objects in my head that didn’t serve me very well. And, while I had a lot of words to use, getting them out in a way that made any sense was nearly impossible and very frustrating. When I discovered that I could express my thoughts and feelings by banging away on the piano, I felt like I finally had a voice…and I’m pretty sure that my family finally got some relief.
I remember getting lost in my imagination creating elaborate stories and soundtracks. Every feeling and thought ended up getting worked out on my upright, and I loved my own musical world (still do!). My mom always told me that she knew I was destined to play the piano because when she first saw me she saw my hands and knew that the piano would be my first language (she’s kinda freaky like that).
Music for a lot of people is performing and creating, and I think that is beautiful. Music for me is everything else. Colors are music, smells are music, feelings are music, emotions are music, scenery is music, situations are music, and thoughts are music. You get the idea. And, along the way, music eventually helped me figure out how to access the words in my head to make sense of them.
The journey started when I was four…