Tag Archives: Piano Lessons

Piano Lessons

3 May

For most of my life, I have taken piano lessons. The first time I ever touched a piano was when I was 6; I started lessons when I was 8. In all honesty, when my parents asked if I wanted to play an instrument, what I really wanted to play was the guitar. But my mom is a classical music fan, and persuaded me to choose the piano. Thus, began my long, tear-filled journey of piano lessons.

I am not a fan of classical music. At all. I’m a through and through Country gal. Looking back, taking guitar lessons would have made a lot more sense. But at the time, I was quite easily persuaded. My first teacher wanted his students to enjoy what they were playing. So technique-wise, I learned nothing. After 3 or 4 years, I stopped with him, and got a different teacher. This new teacher is the one I blame for the tears.

He was young and strict and moody. By the end of every lesson, I would be in tears. Tears that I fought hard to control, but it was a losing battle from the start. I was (and still am) an extremely sensitive person, and his insults did nothing to help my growing hatred of the piano. Even when he praised me on a piece well played, all I could hear were “I have students younger than you who can play better” and “You will never be good at this”. My mom was no help either. “If you’d practice more, you’d get better”, “You can’t play with friends until you practice the piano. He said you have to practice at least 3 hours every day” and “Stop wasting money”.  To be fair, I did learn a lot about how to play the piano when I was with him.

To any sane person looking in, the solution would be simple. If you hate it so much, and if it causes so many fights (every single fight I have ever had with my parents stems from the piano), why don’t you just stop? The answer? Because I can’t. It has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. As much as I hate it, I can’t let go. It is a part of who I am, and if I stop, I too, will die. It seems overly dramatic. But it’s true. It has become such a huge part of me that if I were to stop, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.

I found a new teacher, and have been with him for almost a year. I enjoy it, but slowly, the fights are starting again. Things as simple as my dad refusing to drive me (it takes close to 2 hours to get there by public transport) to (once again) the “fact” that I am “wasting money”. Whether I like it or not, piano lessons have become a part of me, and I know that it will continue to be until the day I die, whether it be soon or a long time away. That, I do not know, but what I do know is that I can never stop.




Life In D Minor

24 Feb

I look at the sheets of music

With titles I can’t read

And notes I used to know.


I remember spending hours

Playing and playing,

Until my fingers bled.


Tears were shed,

Papers were ripped,

And threats echoed in the room.


I longed to stop,

To end the torture

That ruled my life.


Yet looking back,

I wish I knew

What I know now.


For the piano is a part of me,

The notes are my words,

And music is my life.



The Weekend…

25 Jan

It’s Friday. Which means that tomorrow’s Saturday. And the day after that is Sunday. A.K.A. It’s the weekend. Now, I know most people look forwards to the weekend since Monday of every week and are very excited when it finally arrives. You can go out with friends, go out on dates, go shopping, get drunk, etc. (Not necessarily in that order.) I get it. But ever since I was a little kid, like 5 years old, I’ve always dreaded the weekend. Why? Well, for starters, the weekend always meant that once it was over, it would be Monday again- another 5 days of school. This torturous cycle goes on forever.

Then, there’s the fact that weekends are for catching up on homework, projects and studying that you’ve put off all week. Also known as every assignment, test, project and piece of homework that was assigned throughout a 5-day period. The weekend is when you have to complete all of it. And as you can probably guess, there’s a LOT. Plus, being the super busy kid that I was (and still am), my weekends were filled with extra classes and lessons. Piano lessons, extra math class, badminton, drawing lessons, soccer, basketball, ballet, etc…

I think the biggest reason that I hated the weekends (and still do) is because of piano lessons. It’s not that I didn’t like going to piano lessons. It was just that I was scared. Throughout the entire week, not only putting of projects and tests, I’d put off practicing the piano. Then, when Sunday would come, naturally, I’d be horrible at playing whatever pieces I was supposed to practice during the week. On top of that, my piano teacher isn’t one that you can call the nicest. He was very blunt. And had very little patience.

As for my favourite day of the week, I don’t know. I’m leaning towards either Tuesday or Wednesday.