"Dream Pianos"

I would much rather be playing the piano right now but I am waiting for the electrician to come fix my stove and I am worried I won't hear the doorbell with my headphones on.  So instead, piano is getting a little spotlight in my blog.

Just in the past week, I have finally started really enjoying playing the piano again.  Getting back into playing is difficult and it's a bit of a let-down when you can't play songs well that you used to or when you can't remember songs you used to have memorized.

But then it clicks!  This week has been piano euphoria and I have finally felt that exuberant sensation when your hands seem to be detached and working a magic all their own.  When you get to stop thinking, you get to start playing.

I read a book awhile ago called The Piano Shop on the Left Bank by Thad Carhart.  It's part mechanical manual, part history, and part philosophy, but what I remember most about it was how Carhart highlighted the piano's uncanny way of becoming a personality in its own right.  I remember all the pianos I used to play, not just their color and shape, but their resonance, tone and feel of their keys.

The last line of the book is "You can never have too many dream pianos," and these are mine:

I learned to play on a Baldwin baby-grand that had the softest, gentlest tone I have ever heard.
I spent many days cranking out notes on a sparkling white baby-grand Yamaha in an echoing auditorium.  This piano sounded so bright that there were some songs I wouldn't allow it to play.
I used to go in to a piano store on my lunch break, and the owner would let me play their prized Faziolis, and I never got enough of hearing them sing.
For six months I was the proud owner of a painted upright that may have looked like trash to some, but had a beautifully sounding harp.

Although I wish I could have a room full of my "dream pianos" even if it was just for a day like catching up with old friends, I am so grateful for my current piano.  The keys are old and noisy, but since it's digital, I plug the headphones in and I don't hear the keys, only the notes, and it's like I have transported myself to a grand stage (minus the audience of course--those are nerve-wracking).