The Piano

I've been thinking a lot lately about art and creativity... It was through the act of creation that we had our first interaction with God. We were made in God's image, and He created. I've been thinking about art and the creation of things -words, pictures, music- and through these things we are able to communicate, associate, identify with and understand each other (and ourselves). It is through the creative that we find that we are not alone in what we are going through. It is largely through creation and the creative arts that we are drawn to God.

There are a lot of aspects of the creative that we bury under busyness and the excuse of "I'm just not very good." Well, rubbish! I've been realizing how important it is to pursue the creative. If we let it go too long, we start to lose a part of ourselves. If we neglect the creative, we are missing out on a key part of who God made us to be.

I can't say that Chris and I are extremely talented in the fine arts department, but both of us have some ability. Chris was in a band or two in his younger years, most notably Excruciating Pain. You know, it was one of those bands with the heavy drums and guitars and guttural vocals that no one would understand without a lyric sheet. I took piano lessons for years, and managed to learn the basics on the guitar. But as we forged ahead into real adult life, we set aside the music in pursuit of 'more important' things.

Even though we aren't particularly gifted, we had a vague hope that maybe one of our kids might be, and so we ferreted away into storage Chris's drum set and bass guitar and my banjo... just in case. Some days I would think with a tinge of jealousy about those uber-talented families who sit around on a winter evening, playing and singing together.

Growing up, we had a monstrosity of a piano in our basement. It was old and had real ivory veneer on most of the keys. My parents had a duet book that they would play from some times. When I was old enough, I remember sitting down with a worn copy of John Thompson's Teaching Little Fingers To Play, and after Mom showed me the basics, I worked my way through the book on my own. Not long after, she found a piano teacher for me. I don't know the reason, but at some point, my grandmother sent money for a new piano for me, and I took to recording songs for her on a cassette tape.

When I moved to Tennessee, I left the piano behind. After Chris and I got married, a piano Chris had ended up in our basement, but every time I sat down to play, a small child would be right there to disrupt my playing. Besides, it needing tuning in a bad way, so I couldn't stand to play it for more than a few seconds. Chris did have a small keyboard he bought for Reanna, but the Moonlight Sonata is impossible on the thing. As a result, for years, I have not played.

Lately, my mother, and I were discussing the piano, and she told me if any of the kids ever expressed interest in the piano, I could have it back. But how will my kids ever develop a real interest if there is no one around playing?

And so slowly, I have been waking up. I am repenting of the closeted instruments. Regardless of the magnitude of our talents, I don't think we should ferret them away.  How else can we inspire and encourage each other? How else can we honor the God that gave us all we have? (And I am reminded of the parable of the talents.)

So when a friend offered me the gift an old electric piano, I was glad to accept it. Saturday, Chris picked it up, and we made space in the living room. Then I sat down to see if I could tease out of memory a Sonata I played years ago. Some of the keys squeaked and others clunked a little, but the kids were crowding around, begging for a chance to play. I am so grateful for this gift.