Introduction to the Problem
The first instrument I played was a baby grand in my neighbors house. Doots, My best friend, from birth to age ten, has moved on to become an opera singer for the New York Met. Her father and Elton Jon look like, and very skilled pianist would let us play his piano for hours. Our play list included "I'm a little Tea Pot," "Here comes the Bride," "Big Rock Candy Mountains," and "Tomorrow" from the musical Annie. I remember the sun room the piano was stored in, and how warm it was on the piano bench. As we got a bit older we learned basic melodies, and everyone's favorite "Heart and Soul."
I guess you could say it was here that his love with sound was born. Now this passion has been with my through out my entire life. As with all things that bring us the most joy, that passion can sometimes turn into an angry mistress. One who lashes out and cuts deeper then any knife. Over the next year, it is my goal to explore my relationship with sound, and try to mend it. Those of you fortunate, or hell, unfortunate to know me here on LJ are welcome to come along for the ride. Trust me, it's bound to be bumpy.
I was eight when I recieved my first instrument. A Yamaha Key Board. I still have no idea how my parents could afford it. It was full sized with weighted keys and played "Venus," as a Demo. Around the same time I learned my mother played guitar. She had an old warped 6 sting she kept under the stairs. Being a child of the sixties it had even traveled to Woodstock New York for that famous event. I also learned my mother had a band. That's right ladies and gentle men, those of you who know Nana Carol-Lee, in her long haired pot smoking days, my mother had a band!
Mum and I spent hours playing from her old song books. Mostly John Denver, CCR, and Willy Nelson. I still have an old three ring binder, filled with type writer pages of songs and chords. This became my first song book.
I guess you could say it was here that his love with sound was born. Now this passion has been with my through out my entire life. As with all things that bring us the most joy, that passion can sometimes turn into an angry mistress. One who lashes out and cuts deeper then any knife. Over the next year, it is my goal to explore my relationship with sound, and try to mend it. Those of you fortunate, or hell, unfortunate to know me here on LJ are welcome to come along for the ride. Trust me, it's bound to be bumpy.
I was eight when I recieved my first instrument. A Yamaha Key Board. I still have no idea how my parents could afford it. It was full sized with weighted keys and played "Venus," as a Demo. Around the same time I learned my mother played guitar. She had an old warped 6 sting she kept under the stairs. Being a child of the sixties it had even traveled to Woodstock New York for that famous event. I also learned my mother had a band. That's right ladies and gentle men, those of you who know Nana Carol-Lee, in her long haired pot smoking days, my mother had a band!
Mum and I spent hours playing from her old song books. Mostly John Denver, CCR, and Willy Nelson. I still have an old three ring binder, filled with type writer pages of songs and chords. This became my first song book.