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I’m not sure exactly when I started… I think I was in middle school. But I can still remember my first piano books. Thick waxy-feeling pages, large-print musical notes and a little illustration to go with each song or exercise.

I took piano lessons from middle school ’till eleventh grade, and my constant companion through all those years was my trusty Yamaha PF-85 digital piano. It was built when I was seven years old; Mom and Dad bought it used from a local musician. I wasn’t always faithful with my practicing – in fact, a week rarely went by that saw me practice every day. But I enjoyed playing and watching my Mom smile in the kitchen as I reviewed old favorites or rejoiced at the successful completion of a new assignment.

My PF-85 travelled with me to middle-school “gigs” with two friends and their Christian rap group “TCC” – “Totally Committed to Christ”. It provided countless improvised Christmas carols every year, and eventually it travelled with me to college. I self-produced a solo piano CD in 2001… Slapping a DAT deck on the headphone output and cross-dubbing the songs to burned CDs was half-assed, but I still haven’t topped them as Christmas presents, and my Dad still proudly displays the disc in his office.

After I graduated from college and moved out on my own, I rarely played. The piano started out perched in my townhome living room, and moved down into my office at Thanksgiving of ’03. It quickly became a hamper for homeless items, and my time at the keys shrunk to zero.

Which brings us to tonight. After embarking on a major home cleanup effort this weekend, I managed to clear all the clutter away from the piano, and to find homes for its former occupants. After dusting it off a bit, I sat down nervously. Not surprisingly, everything still powered-up and worked like a charm… And I started to play. Just simple improvisation – happy-sounding warbles in C – but it felt good.

After a few minutes, my fingers started to ache… I’d forgotten how much work playing the piano really is! But it felt good to play again, and reassure myself that – while it’s not quite like riding a bicycle – I can still at least make something that resembles music!