Ebony and Ivory
My fingers were dancing on a staircase of ebony and ivory. The music poured from my soul as effortlessly as an eagle flies. I was transported into another dimension where I saw clarity. It was as if the whole world stopped just to hear what I had to play. My performance ended with a thunder of applause from the audience. I was floating on a musical cloud. I believe in the piano.
The piano is perfection. 88 keys and over 1500 individual parts. One part imprecise and the instrument will fail. The piano is just as complex to play as it is to make. My attempt to master this instrument is an attempt to achieve the impossible: perfection. The result of this pursuit of perfection in my life is an overall well balanced being. The piano has matured me both emotionally and logically because I must feel and count what I’m playing.
The piano is freedom. As I play written music or improvise my own story I am painting a picture. This picture can be of a beautiful sunset or a terrible storm. I have the freedom to tell my own story and communicate my message to anyone who is willing to hear it. I have the freedom to transport myself into new world. A world where there is no hate, fear, or worries. A world that is precise, exact, and my very own sanctuary.
The piano is the meaning of my life. Many days I question my existence. I question what purpose I serve. I question why I am who I am. But when I am playing the piano none of this matters anymore. And sometimes, just for a moment, I know who I am and why I’m here. I know the meaning of life. The answer does not come in words but in a supernatural whirlpool of knowledge. Then, just as quickly as it came, the connection and knowledge are lost. But I take comfort in knowing that moment of answers will always be there, waiting for me on my ebony and ivory staircase.
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