A Long Journey; A Life.

I remember that when I was in grade 5 I would tidy the kindergarten rooms because they had pianos in them. It was worth the agony of having to pick up after other people, as I hate to tidy after anyone, butI got access to play and explore the instrument. I remember coming up with little diddies of my own, nothing complicated at all, but timed well, and had a few different “lines” as I think of them. (I think with words, since with me the words have always come first.)

It was one of the longest times I had access, and could let the fingers learn to do their own thing, and the sounds evolve into slightly more complex pieces. It really stamped into me the creative longing that would fill the rest of my life. Unlike other times I wasn’t scolded, told to quit as I had no idea what I was doing, or remanded for being repetitive. I wasn’t mocked for my lack of skill by fellow students as they never heard me. The kindergarten rooms were my safe haven in a tumultuous time in my life. It was a painful childhood I suffered through, and music always was something that took me out of it. Being able to make my own was an emotional salve, antibiotic for my soul, and let my brain rest for a few minutes each day. Walking on eggshells, darting verbal bullets, running scared, those things are all very tiring even for an adult.

I used to, for years, envision what it would be like to have my own piano. To hit the keys, softly, fast, angrily, slowly, and to feel the resonance coming from the box through my chest. I could remember the way I felt in grade 5, you see, and it would at times bring tears to my eyes, even laying in bed trying to sleep, dreaming while still awake. Of course, in my dreams the pieces I played were vastly superior to what I could actually play, which was virtually nothing. LOL!

I started babysitting when I was 14 and two of the houses I sat at had pianos. All of a sudden my hands decided they’d had enough on their own, and I started to work with two hands. If anyone were to have been a fly on the wall they would have laughed at the great effort I made, the concentration I had, and the way my tongue sticks out a bit to the side when I’m doing it. It still does that, and in in other things than music. (It’s funny when you’re cutting someone’s hair and they let you know that when you’re doing a particularly difficult section that requires extra concentration, that your tongue sticks out to the side a bit. Also, to then realize you do it every time you are doing a particularly difficult section. LMAO!!)

I remember, throughout my entire life that while listening to the same songs as my contemporaries, they were all hooked onto the beats, and the words. They liked bands because other people liked them. I always preferred the music that had fullness to it. Music that had emotion put into it. To this day I’ve got a soft spot for certain artists that no one else my age would dare tell anyone they liked.  (Also, there is a certain artist who I have literally been chastized for liking, because he isn’t a real piano player or composer, but new-age, so he’s no one and so are the people who like him. Ok, it’s Yanni. His music tugs at my heartstrings. Especially “Nostalgia” from his “Live At The Acropolis” album. Makes me cry almost every time I hear it!)

I got a gift immediately after my mom kicked my abusive, oppressive stepfather out. We had a friend with one of those club-store cards, and she took us there one day. Spur of the moment my mom saw a large selection of keyboards. We tried them all out and we decided the one with the best piano sound was the Yamaha PSR-200. We had quite a bit of fun doing it, too. Then, she just went and bought it for me!! I cried right then and there in the store. (She’s still my biggest fan and supporter.)  As soon as we got home I plugged it in, and have never stopped making music since. I was 18 at the time. I’m 35 right now.

The keyboard came with the usual information book, instruction manual, song book for it’s demo songs. Inside, at the back, there was the huge list of basic chords for the keyboard that I’ve mentioned in the past. There is a single finger chord mode, and then a full chord mode. By pressing on the chord, I started on full right away, with the beat of your choice you could make easy music. It was so simple, and the sounds that started coming out fed me. I was so hungry to create, and never realized how starved I really was. (It’s astonishing how being stifled can be gotten used to, and how you forget after a while what it feels like to have ever been filled.)

The first song I every figured out was “The Rose.” I only knew the first verse, but it didn’t stop me. I played it over and over and over………………………… (I eventually learned all 4 verses, but for a while it was the only song I knew through and through so it got played to death.)

I have 2 younger sisters who lived at home as well. (They will hate ”The Rose,” forever.)To this day they can’t stand my musical ability. I would sing and sing back then, and they got sicker and sicker of it. I taught myself how to play and sing, and they hated it more. I started to teach myself harmonies, and would, (and still do,) sing harmony to the car radio. I started to play-by-ear, figuring out the sounds I heard in my favorite songs, and making them my own. I would put spins on things, create my own renditions, and got slagged for it by my siblings, and their friends. The rift grew between us, but it never stopped me. My mother was so supportive, and any time our friends came over she got me to perform for them. I had a great little fan base with her friends, and they eventually became my friends. To this day they all love my music.

I started to write my own music one day. I’d always been interested in writing poetry, and Lord knows I had enough of my own already under my belt. Writing poems specifically for music became my next challenge, and with a classical acoustic guitar I bought for $100 at a garage sale and taught myself how to play, I embraced it with a vigor I’d never experienced before.  I wrote, and still do write, only with chords I knew/know.

Making music has not just changed my life, it’s given me a life.