Dear My Younger Self,
There is a great Polaroid picture of you, at age 2 (maybe younger), seated (propped up) at grandma’s piano. You are obviously way too young to know what is going on. Your fingers on placed on that smooth ivory and you look like you are ready to play. Your parents probably thought it was a cute shot. But little do they know you will be drawn to that piano for the rest of your life. You will start lessons around age 8 with a wonderful teacher. Don’t stop playing. Theory is hard, but you need to learn it before you can play the fun stuff. Hang in there. Your second teacher will be horrible, but the final teacher will be just as wonderful as the first. She will be encouraging with a great sense of humor and you will be shocked at what pieces you will be able to play.
Banging on that piano will help you make it through your struggles with Alopecia and everything else on your plate throughout your adolescence. Don’t ever stop playing. Your piano teacher will encourage you to keep playing through college, even though you cannot handle lessons, college, a commute and a job. Listen to her.
When you start composing, WRITE IT ALL DOWN AND SAVE THE SHEET MUSIC. I would love to be able to play those songs again. I would be proud to have proof that I wrote them. Heck, I would be happy to be able to read music right now. I never should have stopped. Neither should you.
Your Older Self