We're painting my house right now, and it stinks. Literally, figuratively, it all stinks.
I went to play my piano – Poulenc's improvisation "Hommage a Schubert" was running through my mind. I needed to get the music out of my head and channel it through the ivory keys, but the stupid canvas painting sheets were covering it up. They're those ugly ones, that are all scratchy from the sandy paint and blotched with the colors from the past 10 houses they invaded. It doesn't seem right, that beautiful hand-carved piano being covered up just like the couches and chairs, masked as a simple piece of furniture. It's so much more than simple.
I guess it's for the best – I wouldn't want paint to mar the beautiful perfection of that piano; but it at least deserves a nicer cover. Maybe a new paint sheet would set it apart from the rest of our covered up furnature. But I digress – as I sit here writing, the music is still running through my head. Then again, I guess it isn't that bad I didn't play today – I played it a million times over in my mind, and it sounds better in my head than I can play it anyway.
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3 comments:
The problem with hearing songs in your head is no one else can hear them.
Hope the painters finish soon!
haha thanks me too!
My goal is to make my playing sound as good in reality as it does in my imagination :)
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