“Like a sword, a word can wound or kill, but as long as one does not touch the blade, the sword is no more than a smooth piece of metal. Someone who knows the qualities of a sword does not play with it, and someone who knows the nature of words does not play with them.”
The greatest arrogance of the world is to think that everyone thinks like you.
I saw a quote not too ago long that reads, “It’s harder to get kidnapped if your fat. Eat cake.”
This cracked me up so much and I had a good laugh. I loved the quote because it gives us an excuse to eat that which we most desire! That has always been my type of humor. Quotes or videos that justify an otherwise shameful indulgence. And it’s true. Too much cake is bad for you so we don’t want that, right? It’s this kind of left-foot reasoning that makes us feel good about putting that next piece German Chocolate in our mouth!
This goes back to my New Years Resolution post where I committed-ish to get more exercise and to adopt better eating habits. But again, when I hear quotes like this it comes so naturally to take another slice and to sleep instead of jog. Maybe that’s all part of my genetic disposition. That does exist you know, which means I’m more a victim than lazy.
I thought that I would share this as the word of the day sparked the idea. Well, that and the cake I have in front of me that will soon meet its doom. I’m going to teach it a lesson.
So what principle or life-altering moral do we take from this…?
Eat the cake friends. The treadmill will be there tomorrow.
No story should be left untold…
There is no greater agony then bearing an untold story inside you.
– Maya Angelou
The highs and lows; the minors and majors. The chromatic verses and those that almost lose sense and theory altogether. The moments that make you smile; those moments whereby a note can pull a tear in concert…
I am many things in this life, and many things define me. But there is one exclusive title that I hold near and dear to my heart. That of A Pianist.
I am not a Pianist because I fill concert halls with my music, but because my hands and fingers have become acquainted with the ivory feel of the black and white keys. I can not boast of prominence and renown, but the Steinway knows my name. A faithful companion in many struggles, it has endured pounding and striking which have not made it somber. Instead, it always volunteers; it waits long-suffering until I need again. It does not agonize in my troubles and or my glee. The piano absorbs them and rebounds them with resilience and vivacity to my ears. It represents me in a realm of feeling and emotions. It converts it all to a universal language showing What I am and How I am without leaving me naked to the eye.
Therapy, healing. To manipulate the keys until song materializes. The thump and thud of the left hand and the savory and syrupy dance of the melody on the right. The cadence and pace just right take you by the hand and walk you through an explanation of What I am and How I am. The highs and lows, the minors and majors. The chromatic verses and those that lose sense and theory altogether. The moments that make you smile and those moments whereby a note can pull a tear in concert. Never pressing, never offending, never forcing. Piercing flesh and bone, fastening to the heart with vigor and clutch. Flushing through ear canals like wild waves to engrain in the brain.
The piano gives itself to A Pianist; in propensity, it lends its all to the function of the instrument. To help, to abide by, to unite with hands and fingers to speak a language throughout the world loved. What I Am is a Pianist. How I am depending on the moment – listen to find out.
“Many would come to wisdom if they did not think themselves already there.