Tuesday, December 28, 2010
But this week I am spending time with this instrument, which happens to be my favorite piano on earth. My hands rest on the keys and I feel home. It is incredibly difficult to describe; it's more intuitive than anything else. A feeling, an emotional connection. Odd, I know, because to most, it's just a piano.
But it's more than that. And this particular instrument is home to me.
This morning, I played scales for a long time, round and round the circle of 5ths. Whole notes, then quarters, eighths, triplets, sixteenths - the same way I teach my current students. Arpeggios and broken chords followed. I played and played, and found myself so settled by the linear, mechanical certainty of how my fingers fell. "1-2-3-1-2-3-4-1-2-3-1-2-3-4...."
The patterns are etched into my brain.
I played a little Beethoven and the peace of dissonance and resolution settled me. Seems all is right with the world.
I am a pianist. I am more than that, surely; but at the moment I am reminded that at my core, built into my soul by my Creator, honed by years of diligent practice and a hunger for harmonic beauty, I am a pianist.
I'm resting in that today. And I am satisfied.