The Entertainer

ok, let's see if we can pull off a full-blown blog in a lunch hour!!! HAHAHA!!!

No, seriously... I wanted to take a quick moment and write about the history of playing the piano in my life. It has turned out to be something I have truly loved and lost and now, I come back to it with open arms.

Eight years old, I sat on a little stool at our gnarled 100 year old upright piano. When I was six, I had memories of my brother sitting at its keys and playing The Entertainer over and over again. Taking piano lessons would be my moment in the sun. So, I started to learn, and ultimately grew bored with playing silly two note songs over and over again. It wasn't that I was ahead of my time, but rather irresponsible. I wouldn't practice. Instead, I would sit at the keyboard and press 5-8 notes at a time with my hands in the upper and lower half of the keyboard. I simulated the "music" of storms and was drawn to the sound of the second to the highest octave. I experimented and sounded like some Modern Charles Ives, paying no attention to rules. I never bothered to learn any rules.

As you can imagine, this didn't last long. Maybe one year at the most and then add at least another 6-8 years of hearing, "you should have stayed with the piano and practiced... imagine how good you'd be by now." But, about the age of 18, I was forced to slice up those words and eat them with my pride.

I realized my junior year, I loved to sing. I wasn't the best singer, but I had talent. Enough talent to work hard and keep up with all the sopranos who had been in singing lessons since they were 7. Music and singing became my life. But I couldn't read a note. In an attempt to create musical improvement (and keep my vocal scholarship at WSU), I put myself through the largest crash course of all time: college music classes.

I started at the very beginning with a fast paced fundamentals class and pulled myself through a year of Keyboarding, Music Theory, Ear training and Sight Singing. Along with this, I broke away from the melody and comfort zone of the soprano line and began singing parts in the two choirs I was in. I struggled more than I even remember, but happily, this earned me a music minor (which I believe took more time than my 2 year English/creative writing degree). I didn't need a minor, but I did it for me.

"Is this some moralistic story in which Katie is trying to preach to us," you ask? No. I really just wanted to say that I am glad I did it, because now I can play the piano for myself. I am still very bad at the piano. I never learned to practice. But, I can bleed and fall through a song and eventually learn to play it well. And, I am the one who benefits most.

Now, when I play the piano, my mind zones out and takes off. I re-run ideas, and recent conversations and function in a beautiful peaceful state. It is how I feel when I go running. I do something taking concentration and it allows my mind peace.

Recently I have returned to the piano. I had taken an extended break after a bad recital last May. Last night was the first time I picked up my music and really played. It felt liberating and lovely and I am ashamed, after all I have learned, I let fear and embarrassment get the better of me. Here's to Chopin in 2008!!!