The Music Itself.
He sat down afront the piano, fingers running away, flowing across the keys as he hit each note with precision and giving the ivory a thorough beating with each of his fat little fingers. First came the twang of an F natural, the pianist threw up his arms in rage and let out a sort of roar of frustration, throwing his fingers down unto the keys again to start the song that so plagued him, haunting his nightmares. Again, his left hand hit two bass notes in repetition as his right hand moved in a flurry up the arpeggios that changed so swiftly that his mind was quick to fade as he reached even the third bar and he'd falter once again, hitting just a semitone out of the way.
Another roar came from the boy, he slammed his fist down unto the top of the piano and lowered his gaze to the keys as if trying to figure out why he was missing out on so much. His eyes furiously gazed down towards the black and white ivory triggers with envy of what the other pianists he knew could do. Six years out of practice and one deaf ear was something that he wasn't going to let stop him. Again, he threw down his hands in a heavy flurry that could only be seen as anger instead of the excited sound that the song was written to produce. His body swayed and his head fell backwards and forwards as he knew what he was doing was so right, yet the sound was off. His ears couldn't pick up the noises that the song should've produced, and that only put him further off pitch. He soon fell into an F# Minor without even meaning it, playing the song in a darker tone that could only be considered as about as frightening as the sound of tires screeching on an open road and a loud thud coming shortly after.
His head fell forwards as tears of frustration fell unto the keys, his hair flailing endlessly as he tried to get back on track and the song seeming to tear away, his hands aching and faltering only more so than they had before. He fumbled and sobbed loudly as the music left before it all collapsed before him. He stopped the tune, unable to produce another sound from his throat and simply standing before tossing down the sheet music that so taunted and irritated him. It was at this point that he knew he'd made the biggest mistake of his life, after six years of hiding away from his prized instrument he'd forgotten how to play, how the theory enabled him to move his fingers so effortlessly and how the practical side to music brought him joy in the past.
A sinking feeling filled his heart as the light from his eyes faded and he removed himself from the room, realizing that his talent, his life was gone in the blink of an eye. He would never play the same again and that is what would tear him apart inside, the fact that he'd never be the same person he once was.
Today marks the sixth anniversary of the day I stopped playing the piano, it is a regret I carry with me every day and the fact that even now I still teach music to children without even pressing a key on the piano is what upsets me the most. I trained in an international music school in Berlin and spent over eight hours a day playing and practicing in anticipation of my next big competition. I would like to aim this at all budding musicians, if you ever feel hardship in what you're playing, I cannot stress how much you need to carry on. Even if the music is too hard, it only takes practice to play with perfection and that is where I gave up. Today, I returned to the piano in order to try and complete a piece I used to play for my grandfather before his passing in 2013 and I couldn't get past the first three bars, it hurts to even think that I wasted my talent simply because of one small bump in the road. Please, whatever you do, whether it be art, music or drama. Never give up, show the world just how brilliant you are.
With all the luck I can wish you,
Callum James Taylor.
Callum James Taylor.
