I have never lived in a house without a piano. And whilst I don't play (unless you count a one handed version of the Simpsons theme song as playing) to live in a house without a piano feels like it would somehow change the very essence of "home."
Music was a very big part of household life growing up; mum played guitar and sang, dad piano, my sister the trumpet for a little while although she's the real singer these days and as for myself, I played the clarinet and saxophone (although the sax didn't last long as I have baby hands and couldn't reach the low notes). These days my poor clarinet spends more time acting as my door stop to the garage than it does making music and the pianos no longer get played as regularly as they used too but still, to hear a piano played immediately takes me back to lazy summer days spent lying on the red carpeted floor of the one air conditioned room in our old fibre house, listening to dad playing themes from Bach to Joshua Kadison and soundtracks from Disney to The Piano and Chariots of Fire.
There is something very sensual about a grand (or baby grand) piano, something which although I am not old enough to say from experience, I am sure existed since long before the movie Pretty Woman. So of course I just felt that no red dress collection would be complete without the introduction of the piano.
Todays outtake occurred just as I was walking downstairs to the library (where the baby grand lives) and I kind of like it so its going up ;-)
Much love,
D.
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