After a week of begging for my very own piano, my mother put me in lessons. I loved it. Every week when I learnt a new song or a new scale I would show off every chance I had. By the age of 10, the passoin started to fade and when I hit 16 I no longer sat in front of my pinao. Now, more than 10 yrs later the only family love my pinao gets is from the photos that sit on top of it.
I must be turning a milestone because I've started to miss the touch of ivory against my fingers. I wonder if I can still play, not the chopsticks but Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Piano Concerto No. 21.
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photo by: Susan Bacton Interiors
photo by: Ingrao
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photo by: Bella Casa Design
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