Beatrice and I have started going to Music Together classes, and ever since we came home from class on Thursday I’ve noticed all kinds of things reverberating in our life. We’ve been playing the CD at home and at our friend’s house, and the songs are so lovely – some are simple, others are a little more complex, but they are all totally accessible and very musical. And with the music playing at home I’m singing more, dancing more, clapping my hands and tapping Bea’s feet and generally enjoying the musical experience quite thoroughly.
At one point this afternoon I found myself thinking how nice it would be to have a piano at home, to be able to sit down and play some of these songs myself. Or to learn the guitar and be able to strum lullabyes at naptime. Sure, it might be a romantic notion, and the reality may be that learning the guitar might turn out to be more difficult than I imagine, but regardless, I am re-inspired to make music (and MAKE music, not just listening or appreciating, but being part of the creative process) part of my life again. Which is wonderful.
It is one of the very peculiar things about being adult that a certain level of skill and confidence is expected of you if you want to make music, and we fall into roles of “performer” and “audience”, but as children we just sing and dance and listen to others all together, without such rigid expectations.
The only downside? I have suddenly become obsessed with looking for a piano, which could be an expensive endeavour. Tom suggested getting an electronic keyboard, but it is so.not.the.same.

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