The fingertips fell on the black and white keys. When the familiar melody flows out, I always think of the one on tiptoe when I was a child, following the mobile phone video and imitating clumsily the dancing movements of myself. Interests on the road of life are like flowers in spring. Open one struff after another. But only the piano, from the original “going with the flow”,has become my longest companion.
My love for dancing was nearly constant when I was young. The enlightenment teacher at that time was the dance video on my mobile phone, and the open space in the living room was my
stage. I would wriggle with the rhythm barefoot and carefully write down every decomposition movement. Even if I was panting and sweating, I would feel full of joy. Countless times have I
fantasized about standing in the practice room in dance shoes, and the moment when the skirt is flying, but every time the words come to my mouth, I see my parents running around for life, and
think of the economic conditions at home that are not affordable, I finally swallow it back. Without professional guidance and suitable venue, this ardent love can only be quietly hidden in
the mobile phone screen and slowly precipitated into regret as it grows up.
When I was in middle school, fate played a gentle joke on me: I got into the art class by mistake.When the teacher asked everybody to choose a professional direction, I stared at the word “dance”, and my fingertips were burning. But timidity in the bones was like an invisible shell. I
watched students around me choose piano and painting one after another; the words shrunk back
to my mouth. I was afraid that people would laugh at me for having no foundation, and what’s more, I was afraid that I would cause trouble for the teacher after taking the initiative to propose
it. In the end, I followed the footsteps of the public and signed up for a piano class.
The first time I sat in front of the piano, I was at a loss. The black and white keys are cold and strange, and the fingertips are stiff, even simple scales can’t be played coherently, which is
completely different from the feeling of free stretching when dancing. In the early days, practicing the piano was more like a “task”: repeatedly polishing the same wrong sound,
counting the rhythm again and again against the metronome, grinding thin cocoons with fingers didn’t dare slack off. But, little by little, as the messy notes turn into smooth melodies, and as I
can play the first favorite song completely, the tide rises with a sense of accomplishment.
I started to find my happiness on the keys: when I was happy, I played a light song ”Kikujiro’s Summer“, the notes jumping like sunbeams amplifying the happiness a few times; when I am
sad, my fingertips crossed over the melody of ”Moonlight“, and emotions, together with the sound of the piano, gradually appeared and precipitated, and the haze in my heart would also
dissipate. The piano doesn‘t need a wide field like dancing, and it doesn’t have to care about the eyes of others. It is like a silent friend, quietly accepting all my emotions.
In these years of learning piano, I have gained more than one song. It teaches me patience-a complex piece of music that needs to be divided into paragraphs, practiced repeatedly, and can‘t be impatient or impatient, and this concentration has slowly migrated to study and life; it improves my aesthetics, allows me to perceive different emotions and stories in the melody, and
learn to look at the world from a more delicate perspective; it gives me the right power of resisting loneliness, no matter when, as long as you sit in front of the piano, you can have your
own little world.
What’s more unexpected is that the piano quietly changed my personality. In the past, I was introverted and timid. I didn‘t dare to speak in class, and I would blush when talking to strangers.
But after learning the piano, the teacher will encourage me to perform on stage, and the classmates will come to listen to me play the piano, and will also take the initiative to discuss
with me how to deal with the song. When I went on stage for the first time, I was so nervous that my palms were sweating, but when my fingertips touched the keys and the familiar melody
sounded, I slowly immersed myself in it and forgot the eyes of the stage. The applause I heard after getting off the stage made me feel the joy of being ”seen“ for the first time. Later, I began to
take the initiative to ask questions from the teacher, share my experience of practicing the piano with my classmates, and even take the initiative to sign up for performances in class activities.
The piano gave me confidence and made me realize it is not that hard to express myself bravely. Now, I am no longer the little girl who dares not say anything she likes but an extrovert who can
communicate with people calmly and dare to show herself. Sometimes, I will revert to those dancing videos when I was still a child. I still feel a faint regret in my heart, but happier than that
is what I feel. If it hadn’t been for the “cowardly” of those years, if it hadn’t been for the “going with the flow”, I might never have met the piano. It does not have the flexibility of dance, but with a calm melody, it accompanied me through the ignorant youth and shaped a more complete self. As it were, the best persistence is never “love at first sight”, but the love that is slowly precipitated in getting along with each other. This piano is like this to me-an unexpected choice, but the most firm companion. It’s the growth that is hidden in the black and white keys; it’s the gentle force driving me to move from introversion to cheerfulness.
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