Mozart? Bach? Pachelbel?

Nope

As, I sit here on the couch, somewhat into the book I am reading and halfheartedly watching t.v. at the same time. My husband wanders over to the piano (okay so it isn't a baby grand, but it isn't a simple keyboard either, it is really quite magnificent)


It was a whim of a purchase you could say.  A few years ago, my husbands grandfather passed away.  We inherited some money at that time, and were very fortunate to pay off several large bills, okay all of them.  It is almost irritating that at a time of great sorrow, some financial relief could come to us.  In any case, we had money left over.  While driving around town one day, my dear hubby wanted to stop in at a local piano dealership and just look around.  He ended up purchasing what we have now.  I was not completely up for it at the time, thinking to what we had just come from, and not wanting to squander anything and end up right back there.  But he is very persistent, and convinced me that it would be for the family more than anything. That maybe the kids would become interested and we could get them piano lessons.  Wouldn't that be cool, something I had always wanted as a child.  So I reluctantly agreed, who was I to really say no anyway, it wasn't really my money, it hadn't been my grandfather.  (That would be another blog though!)

Needless to say, the kids had no real interest.  Sometimes the son unit gets a wild hair up his butt and will sit and play random notes and tunes.  Much like I did as a child whenever I was in the vicinity of a keyboard or piano.


My husband on the other hand, is really quite talented when it comes to playing.  Although he would never admit it personally.  He has an ornate talent for listening to music and being able to play it without sheet music in front of him, not that the sheet music would do much good since he couldn't read it anyway.  My dad had this same talent. Dad could listen to a song once and be able to play it on the guitar.  To me he was a god, the kind that belong on a stage in front of thousands.  But he was a humble man, and like my husband, would just dismiss it as having lots of practice, nothing special.

Back to the reason I sat down to write.  Hubby has been for the last year or so, composing you could say.  Nothing classical or operatic.  He has been writing a song.  I have listened to so many variations of this song.  He writes and rewrites. He changes chords and octaves.  He changes pitch and words.  He flips the intro with the outro, and reverses everything.  He gets completely frustrated and on the verge if lunacy.  Steps away and comes back to make the jumble of notes sound glorious.  I am a bit jealous of him.  To be able to sit in front of an instrument, touch keys, stretch his voice and sing and play a beautifully written song.  From nothing.  It is to me as though he is just reaching out and plucking this untouched piece of musical genius out of an abyss of nothingness and bringing it to life.  Playing as if he has played his whole life. 

Usually when he sits to play, I try to not speak. I become a part of the background, something I am quite good at doing.  I turn the t.v. down, and keep the kiddos to a dull roar in the next room.  I watch as he slips into another world. He drifts off toward the music he sees in his head, trying ever so hard to give it that shock of life, to revive it.  To bring the two images together and create one. The image of the finished piece in his head, and the reality of what he is playing.  I gaze with curiosity, and endearment.  With awe and, as I said before a touch of jealousy.  Jealous because I have never felt that talented.  He can take words and turn them into beautiful music. He can take cold ivory keys and turn them into a flow of harmonies I could never accomplish.  Then I think.  I can do somewhat the same thing.  I can take the words in my head and put them into a blog, and make people feel as if they have actually lived my thoughts, or so I have been told.  I also have my photography.  I may not be as great as some when it comes to photography. But I get to put what I see into images others can see.  I can snap the shot that will let others know how I felt at the time, or see what I was seeing, since we all know that no two people can look at the same tree and see the same thing.


So I tell my husband, "It will not come in a lighting bolt, it will take time"











Much like these photos I am posting here.  I took many the night I shot these. Most of them ended up in the recycle bin because I just didn't like what I saw.  They weren't the professional quality I thought they should be. Then again, these pictures are from last year.  I was still in the very, very early learning stages, and experimenting.  I know I have still not reached any sort of professional quality now, but I am getting better. 






Over time everything gets better.



I know one day, he will get his song to perfection in his mind.  To me it sounds perfect the way it is. To him, it just isn't there yet.  When he is satisfied then the world will hear his masterpiece.  I know he will be as overjoyed as I will be exuberant.


For now...
Keep Writing, Keep Photographing, Keep Dreaming and Keep Living!