The view from the piano lid

Listening to: Amy Winehouse. Someone to Watch Over Me.

This is the view from my piano when you thunk your forehead onto the top of the keyboard lid, muttering to yourself, “I have no idea what I’m doing,” after thirty minutes of playing random chords and producing nothing that sounds like music.

This week’s assignment from my piano teacher, who says she has me figured out and knows what I need to get out of my classical musician box, is to pick out a brief melody with my right hand and repeat it as I use my left hand to try out different chords, searching for sounds that fit.

Am I feeling like Jarrett? No, not tonight. In fact, I’d call it more of a Prof. Harold Hill experience. And I’m on the verge of a complete Think Method meltdown.

I have no insights to offer at this point. No breakthroughs. Maybe tomorrow. Stay tuned.

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