A piano is a cheat instrument. That’s not to say that it isn’t difficult to get right, it’s just a hell of a lot safer than the string section of your average orchestra.
If life could be a piano, life would somehow be easier to handle. It could be clear cut, so you knew the rules, you knew where you stood. After all, with these guidelines set out for us centuries ago, suddenly the most imposing of instruments can be mastered. The smug look on the face of the musician only confirms as much.
Life as a piano… Each situation could be a sharp a flat or a natural. Black or white. High or low. Even enveloped in the deepest melancholy of a minor key there could be rules to adhere to.
Life is not a piano. There are no steps to be guided along, no easy jumps to make from one note to the next to the next to the next. In life, there is no get out. In pianos, even if your fingers snap off the right notes and your hands won’t stretch far enough to make a chord with middle c and the e above it there is no disaster. If all else fails, you call it jazz.
Life is no guitar either. Think of guitars. Think of frets. Frets are dependable. Frets are handy. Frets are unavoidable. There isn’t a fret in the world which is out to get you. Frets tell you where to put your soft beginner’s fingers in no uncertain terms. A chord on a guitar begs to be played. Even if you can’t quite tell that to the busker with the cold blue fingers, the one who’s voice doesn’t carry in the sad songs and whose tone is not true enough for the happy ones, guitars are easy.
Life is hard.
If you put a finger wrong, a hand slid a fraction too far then all is ruined, and the sound you make is suddenly meaningless.
Life then, is a cello.
