On my way to work today, I listened to a CD my brother made me. He recorded it a few years back. It contains him playing a handful of his original piano compositions.
One song, written for our dying grandfather, whips me back to the memory of my brother playing the song for Grandpa, who sat upright on the hospice bed with his amputated legs formed like trunks in front of him. Sharp and witty as a tack even on his deathbed, my Grandpa stared silently at the wall in front of him as he listened to my brother's quiet recording.
The song, languid and thick with reverie, expressed sullenly what words couldn't. The small grey room with its dark windows pulsed with our aching. It's been years since the funeral, but the memory of that moment still breaks my heart.
My brother plays the piano like an angel. And his compositions are divine. I'm not just saying that because I'm his sister. Trust me, I'm too critical for rose-colored glasses. They're exquisite.
He never even touched the smooth bone keys of a piano until age 13. In fact, I was taking lessons at the time. One day, he was shown the basic finger positions and chords. I swear, within weeks, he tapped out the familiar haunting melody of Fur Elise. 'Cole,' we balked, 'how did you learn that?!' He had learned it by ear. I quit my musical studies immediately.
Over the years, while he sporadically took lessons, it was his spot-on ear and his raw intuition that guided him to compose his thick and complex classical masterpieces. He learned to read music mostly so he could record what he'd already wrote.
Listening today, I was reminded of his genius. I'm also reminded that sometimes life swallows us whole. Raw talent gets shelved as the necessity to earn a living takes over.
Because of this or perhaps as a result of this, my brother hasn't made music seriously in years. He has a chosen field of employment; one that he's thankfully interested in and has a sense of pride in. I don't blame him. You must play smart with the cards you're dealt. But I know I know he still hears songs in his head.
I desperately wish I could hear them.
How many of us are there. How many of us have these loves these gifts we must neglect for life's sake? Can't it be different? Money exists in the mind of humankind. It doesn't really exist. We made it up. Why does the human race bind ourselves to its inherent restrictions?
We're missing out on all the beautiful music...
1 comment:
I know what you mean...I think we almost have to be pushed into a corner until we have nothing to lose...I wish I could study the personalities of highly successful people...I dont mean reading a success book...I mean really studying how they behave and act on a daily basis...there is a lot to be said about the actions of successful people that can't be translated into a book. There are so many different pathways to success too. There is no sure fire system or step by step process to be successful. I will say that I think the biggest component to success is failure. If you never fail then how can you succeed? People are so afraid to fail and I think that is what holds them back. Fear is a powerful and horrible thing in my book.
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