Music is in My Heart

I long to play the piano again.

The last time I played a piece was about 20 or so years ago. I no longer know how to read notes. They are alien to me.

I remember I hated learning how to play it especially since I played classical music. It was not cool like a guitar that people can sing along to. My father insisted that playing a musical instrument was part of a lady's education. I hated my piano teacher that had a peculiar smell about her. She smelled as if she had her period and her napkin needed to be changed. I wonder if she's still alive...

I entertained myself by imagining cartoons when I played. Tanananan! And a squirrel popped out of a hole in the ground. Tanananan! Another squirrel. Tanananan! Yet another! Tannananantananan! They ran around picking up acorns and nuts. Up and down; round and round.

It was not until I was more mature when I appreciated playing it. I played powerful melancholic pieces that called for softness, emphasis and drama. It helped express my anger and frustrations as a youth.

And then I stopped.

I still have my piano but it badly needs repair.

I long to play the piano again.