Piano is easier for me than guitar. I have a very nice limited edition Martin steel string, but no calluses and very little knowledge of the guitar. I have a longer relationship with the piano.
When I was little I liked the piano but hated practicing – as I had near perfect pitch I could play almost anything that I heard. If I played it through once myself, I had it committed to memory. However, fairly serious brain concussion took care of that for the most part. I have never developed a lot of technique or skill. Hated scales, though Hanon and Czerny were a little more tolerable. Then my mother hovered and was vicariously demanding, and I was rebellious – a good thing in certain cases. But one thing that I remembered that my mom told me about playing a musical instrument was that you could always do that, the rest of your life, for your personal enjoyment (she wasn’t all bad after all – just human). But I haven’t touched the piano hardly at all the last two years, and I didn’t play that often throughout adulthood.
Lately though I have found myself sitting at the grand piano my mother left to my daughter which I am keeping for her until she settle long enough to have to bear the expense of moving it every year or so. It is a beautiful instrument, a full sized Boston grand, with a lovely,deep mellow tone. I sat down to play through the Moonlight Sonata – about as advanced as I ever got – and even as I fumbled through it the music pulled at me. Why do we human beings not allow ourselves to do what feeds our core? One of life’s lessons no doubt. So I have pulled out all my old music and books, and have decided to begin again. Just for me, just for the pure and simple pleasure of playing music.
