Improvisation

One of the things my family misses most about our old home is my daughters piano lessons. There is an  eccentric fellow a few doors down from our old house that teaches piano full time. He’s my age, a friend of  a friend and a fantastically talented man. 

My daughter loves the piano because of him. But does not want to take piano lessons from another teacher. She’s content finding sheet music and practicing on her own. Finding a little help in the way of dvd’s and books have helped a lot. Her teacher is also a composer and she loved just listening to his original music.
 
The first day he met my little girl he sang her name, loudly, emphasizing the ending in a sing song voice like this…abi  GA~IL. Whatever she learned was second to the impact he made on the family. This was a man that has quirks. He doesn’t do lawn care in the traditional sense, letting his bushes grow into a omnimous hedge in front of his house, planting tiny trees all over the lawn, front and back, growing pots and pots of baby trees on the deck for some future use.  And at my daughters first recital, he showed up with two different shoes on. 

But since traveling to piano lessons out of town just isn’t an option with my schedule, and since Abbey won’t hear of taking lessons from anyone else but Mr. Free Spirit himself, we’ve improvised and she’s doing fantastic. I do think he’d approve of the improvisational course we’ve taken.

   

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Posted in art