I am truly blessed to own the piano that I have played since I could sit up. It’s been in my family since around 1963 and is circa 1890’s.
It resonates way too much and has a tinny reflection on the pitch but there is no other piano that has afforded me such a flow of creativity. It’s like we know each other.
There’s a resonance between us. Seriously. No pun intended.
You see, as I have lived, grown, outgrown and come back to this piano, it’s like returning to an old friend and not needing to explain a thing. I can sit there for hours without striking a note and somehow, my old friend seems to understand.
We’ve been through the childhood years of exploration, the teenage years of frustration, the young adult years of confusion and now these days, the years of learning to accept absolution, approval and self exploration.
So my old friend, who I return to almost daily, still holds a special bond with my spirit that no digital replication can ever manage to best. My old friend, who creaks and clatters as I pound the sound out of it, still affords me the grace to get notes wrong that still somehow sound right. My oldest friend who despite us speaking different languages, is still the one who possibly understands best, what my frustrated fingers are trying to say and does their part to bring out the best in both of us.
To my oldest friend, even if we are apart for a season, which we have been over the years, I know that as my fingers strike the ivory, your voice will once again be heard and our synergy will once again flow ^-^