By edanThe journey had a bit of a different start for me, rooted in the warm memories of childhood, when my mum and dad decided to have me learn the keyboard. I must've been about nine or ten, and it was Michael, a kind fellow, who was tasked with unveiling the mysteries of music to my young ears. Every week, I'd find myself in his modest music room, surrounded by melodies and learning how to play the keyboard. There was magic within those walls, especially when I played pieces by Jean-Michel Jarre—"Oxygène" being a particular favorite. Yet, despite this musical environment, my left hand was left less skilled, merely strumming chords without much more to say.
As time went on, I was passed on to an elderly gentleman in Covington for piano lessons. His expertise was undeniable, evident in the way he spoke and played. But no amount of wisdom could rectify the mental block stemming from my earlier keyboard lessons. My left hand stubbornly refused to dance as freely as the right, which in turn made each note a struggle. Frustrated by this disharmony, I eventually abandoned the lessons, and music became a nostalgic echo.
Years drifted by, and I moved into my own place. Here, an electric piano found its way into my life, coaxed by a quiet longing to reconcile with music. Yet the same struggle plagued me, my left hand almost humorously inept. But one night, a vivid dream visited me, a symphony of my fingers working in perfect unison. I awoke the next day, as if the dream had unlocked something in the hidden recesses of my mind. With renewed hope, I sat before the piano, and to my astonishment, found both hands cooperating to play basic tunes.
This newfound coordination emboldened my creative spirit. I took to composing with simple resolve, penning a song called "Oh My Love." It was a waltz that paired a somber left-hand rhythm with a haunting melody, accompanied by dark, Cave-like lyrics. Each chord, though simple, held a piece of my journey—the trials, the block, and the eventual unlocking through sleep.
Music never left me after that. Though my proficiency never reached towering heights, the satisfaction of crafting something uniquely mine remained. The initial voyage from those early keyboard days to this awakening became a story thread I cherished, a testament to patience, perseverance, and the surprising power of dreams.