I mentioned in my very first blog post that I was a competitive gymnast as a kid. I was doing 16 hours a week of gymnastics when the piano was first brought into our home. Needless to say, it wasn’t brought there for me. My parents got it for my younger sister. We had a teacher come to our house each week to give her lessons. I would stand at the back of the room, quietly listening to everything, and would practice on my own time (what little I had). My sister, however, made it very clear to everyone involved that she did not want to take piano lessons. I begged my parents to let me play, and told the teacher how much I wanted to take lessons every chance I got. After much work on the teacher’s part in convincing my parents, and many more failed attempts at lessons for my sister, they finally caved! I was so happy. I practiced every day in the morning before school, and still continued for a year or two with my demanding gymnastics schedule. After my gymnastics coach asked my parents to increase my hours at the gym to 20 a week, I had a decision to make. It was just too much to continue with both. It was the biggest life decision I had ever made at that point (or quite possibly the only one!), and even though I knew what I had to do I still didn’t want to give up one of my loves. Looking back as an adult, I’ve always known I made the right choice. I wouldn’t trade in my music, or the experiences it has offered me, for anything. ❤️🎹❤️🎼❤️
Me and my gymnastics team, 1993:
Me and my piano, pre-mushroom cut:
Here you can see the colour of the piano better (my mom painted it to match our living room!):
A key from my first piano (it’s real ivory, and was best cleaned with vinegar):
