Finger dancing on the ivory…

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Practice Makes Perfect?.”

Oh, to be able to finger dance down the white and black keys of the piano. That would be pure joy for me.  Think about it.  To be able to walk up to an empty piano bench, pause, sitting down as you flex your fingers pondering what randomly selected tune you will give a few minutes of . I do envy those with that ability. Both to be able to play and to read music.

Posh stores such as Nordstrom’s frequently have pianos on a floor near the escalator, idly waiting for someone to take a moment to caress the keys. Portland, OR has 14 pianos randomly scattered throughout the city just ‘because’…and having the ability to play opens up a whole world of ideas and people and moments of joy.

If I listen carefully I can conjure up a ‘ragtime tune’ all jumpy and fast. (Think oil in a hot skillet.) Or I can find myself swaying to a lullaby or waltz. Piano music is funky, fancy, silly and slow. I would be brilliant if I weren’t so dull.

Trust me, I have tried.  Also, can’t do math.


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