Piano

I don't own my own piano.
Just a crappy keyboard which I hate playing (keyboards have no soul!)
but occasionally use to play other voice parts when I'm practising for
choir rehearsals.

So when I really want to play, I use the piano at my parents' house
that I've played on for 23 years.

It's funny, but I do have a relationship with my piano. Not so much
with my violin.
Piano is special.
I was made to learn violin whereas I wanted to learn the piano. (Not
that I regret being made to play the violin. I'd never have had the
chance to perform in an orchestra and in chamber groups if I just
played piano and I loved all that). But if I wanted to spend time
playing music for myself, I'd always choose Piano.

If I was bored and wanted to kill time, I'd play with Piano.
If I was angry, I'd take it out on Piano.
If I was frustrated with school and uni exams, I'd also take it out on Piano.
If I were upset, heartbroken, in despair – I'd play on Piano.

I'd leaf through books – old, new, classical, pop. Old exam works,
things I'd written, things I'd bought at random garage sales.

Sometimes, if I needed to think of nothing at all, I'd play scales and
exercises, over and over. It's a vent. Filling my mind with ordered
sound stopped me from having to think of anything else.

Often though, I used music to express my feelings.

I've never been good at expressing myself. Maybe not so bad on paper,
but definitely useless face to face. I'm only comfortable taking about
my feelings with Hubby and a few close friends, but me talking about
myself is the exception rather than the norm. I rarely talk about
myself at work or other social situations.

I'm the girl who listens and asks lots of questions of the other
person while rarely offering up any information about myself if not
specifically asked.

Back in my school days, I always found it hard to talk to my parents.
Even now – although I get along well with them, I get accused by my
mother of being "too much like your Dad" – that is, a closed book.
Someone who doesn't talk about feelings and who doesn't let people in.

And that's where Piano comes in. Because whenever I was upset, happy,
afraid, angry – my Mum knew how I was feeling purely through the music
I'd play. And I'd play everyday.

I think she found it amusing that her quiet daughter would not say
anything much about her shitty day, but then bang out Rachmaninoff's
heavy Prelude in C sharp minor and then switch to toggling chords
while singing Kate Bush's rather eerie "Breathing". If she couldn't
work what I was thinking, at least she'd know for sure what I was
feeling.

These days, I only play once a week or so, when I'm staying over at my
parents' house – and I miss having my own piano to play when I need
it. And I guess I still use music, like many people do, to express my
emotions – especially when I have no way of saying what I want to say
in my own words. And like many people, I use music to stay in a mood
or to change moods. So I love my iPod.

But there's nothing like using an instrument as an extra body part to
create all of that.
In that aspect, Piano beats iPod any day.