Joe has worked as a writer in the past, writing copy and designing poster campaigns for large corporations.
“Look at it. It’s just so permanent. It’s like a rock and it’s not going anywhere, but it can take you everywhere. And it’s alive, and it breathes. It breathes into you and that silence, when it’s not being played, is deafening.
But it is calm and it is calming. There’s nothing as calm as that piano.
But I’m not talking about that piano, although the two of us have been through a lot over the years. After all, I can’t carry it around on my back. I mean just about any piano. Just being near a piano makes me feel good. Just knowing there is one in the building.
The smell of an old abandoned piano you just stumbled across. You can feel the weariness as you lift the lid and, when you twang a chord on it, you hear its weaknesses and its strengths. You hear where it’s going and you hear where it’s been and you wish you could have been a part of it, and you want to be a part of it now so you play it. You say “Hello”.
Inside a piano is strength and power and tension and metal and guts and wire and wood and hard things. Eternal things. Touch the keys and you’re in a gentler, kinder and fairer world. A world that makes sense. Stroke a white note (no one ever touches a black note first) and it’s as if you’re disturbing the smoothest surface of the deepest lake and then the ripples begin and it’s alive and so you take a deep breath and you let go of the world and you just dive in and then it’s you and the piano and there’s nothing else.”