Tonight I was having dinner at my friends' place, one of whom is a pianist. Even though their house is cosy and small, a black shiny piano lives on the living room, and rather than being just another piece of furniture, it's more like a giant presence, impossible not to admire. How lovely is to listen someone playing piano, emotional (goosbumps for sure!) and lucky those who have the talent to play it, they make it look so easy. Me, always curious, wanted to know the inside about someone who plays it, not only as a passion but also for a living. I found my friend's answer quite fascinating:
A piano is clumsy and demanding (something like a neurotic girlfriend, that you can't bring nowhere!)
It's a relationship of mutual possession.
Sometimes you play the piano, but other times the piano plays you!
PS: Thank you Frankie magazine for the mention on your e-newsletter! The copy is lovely!