I am lucky enough that my parents gave my sister and I piano lessons when we were young children.  

I believe that gave me a foundation for music that i’ve been able to carry with me my entire life.

I learned up to the intermediate level, at 10 years old, then I fell off in my teens.

In my early 20s, I sang for bands, and focused on singing while others played music for me.  Desiring the freedom to move around, I learned a little (teeny bit) of guitar.

By my mid-20s, piano called back to me.  My parents visited me in New York and bought me a Yamaha keyboard that I use to this day.  It has been a beast and my baby.

I studied all the scales and chords profusely…and that allowed me to play keys in bands, write my own songs.

By my mid-30s, I used the keyboard to write my musical, Love & Pride, and played accompaniment for the actors.  It was great.

But I still feel “stuck” at that intermediate level.  Imposter syndrome is real.  Piano has revealed that to me.  One thing I constantly do is look up advanced piano, to CONFIRM that I can’t possibly know all there is to know about playing.

I check: I is still just scales, chords, rhythmic patterns, harmony, melody, ear training, and reading?  Okay.  Do I know all that stuff? Yes.  But can I do them at an expert level? Hell no.  I can just get by.  But instead of continuing to train in those aspects of my beloved music, I look up once again the THEORY…instead of PRACTICING.

So here is my first example of never giving up.  I’m now 38 and still determined to master piano.  It may take my entire lifetime.

But herein lies the other thing that piano has taught me: Joy.  Simply joy of doing.  When I gets downnn on the piano, with no one in the room but me (although Sasha can clearly hear me in the other room), I get so much pleasure.  When the muscle memory in my hands learns a new pattern, when I improve my technique, when I conquer those damned (but amazingly sweet) jazz chords…I feel pure joy…ecstasy even.

Undoubtedly I will still suffer from imposter syndrome and obsessively look up theory in between actually practicing, but it can’t hurt.  Because there is no time limit.  Me and my Piano for life.