I fondly remember the day piano was introduced into my life:
When I was a little girl, my dad brought home my very first piano. I was too young and too small to make it onto the bench on my own, and I couldn't even reach both ends of the piano with my short arms. My dad wanted to show me how he played, and I watched his fingers effortlessly dance on the keys. I thought it was magic; it still feels like magic. I could only produce loud, distorted sounds when I diligently worked to make my fingers seem as elegant as my father's. Even now, I still strive to be half the musician he is.
In Kindergarten, I was finally brought to my very first piano lesson. As the rain poured, I nervously walked into the conservatory. I remember sitting next to the stranger who would change my life: Victor DeLisa. Before I could even think of playing music, I had to learn all about music theory. I occasionally elementary music books with my traced treble clefs and stickers next to the exercises I did correctly on the first try. When I was finally ready, I played my very first song on the piano, which I'm pretty sure was "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Regardless of the song, I remember the rush of ecstasy that I felt when my fingers produced that sound. It wasn't Mozart skill, but it was the first time that I had felt so full and content with everything (that wasn't necessarily a hard thing for a Kindergartener to feel, but hey, it's happened).
I continued to practice my newfound love of music throughout the years, and my skills grew almost as quickly as I did. From the "Star Wars" theme, to classical, to Christmas music, to the original song I wrote my 4th grade crush when he broke my little heart, music was always there. Once I was introduced to basketball, I thought I would be able to handle both. Taking piano lessons in a sweaty uniform or having a classical composition stuck in my head while dribbling the ball down the court was an interesting lifestyle. At the time, I literally thought I could be Troy Bolton, and it wasn't really working out. Eventually, I chose music over sports and I never regret that decision. To this day, I will gladly spend hours practicing new music and taking pictures of my beloved instrument. Music has the ability to speak for me when I am at loss for words. I dream of the day when I can introduce music into my own children's lives, and show them the magic.
RIP Victor DeLisa; thank you for giving me the most beautiful gift anyone could give another person.
