Starting on a wooden chair

„I wasn’t ready“ – How often do we hear or say that in our everyday life? But instead of taking the risk, we behave as if completing an Olympic steeplechase.


No ready, steady, breathe. Go. Without second thought. There is the risk, which we are all so afraid of, but that is the point: we are all afraid. Me, you, the guy from the coffeeshop who smiles at you everytime he presents your cappucino tall with an extra shot caramel. The old lady, asking you to help her climb the stairs; the Italian tourists looking for directions who wonder if you’ll understand their English or if they’ll understand yours; the funny girl from the pub, the one who balances three pints for her friends as if completing an Olympic steeplechase.

In front of me stands a piano, calm, black on white, waiting. Waiting for someone, anyone, to become one with it, stroking, beating or even stumbling. Someone craving for the second to open their arms, ready to take off, blind on both eyes to the risk of falling.


I sit down on a wooden chair. My hands move automatically towards the keys as if by magnetic pull. I press some keys, they don’t fit and I go on to other keys. It sounds good, at least in my ears, but I trust my artistic instinct in distinguishing a harmonic chord from a dissonance. I can’t go on. I mean I could. I could go on looking for the right collaboration of fingers and sounds. But I want more, and I know I can get more.


I begin. Not from the botton because obviously you’re sitting DOWN when playing the piano, but this doesn’t matter. Now I know what it feels like. Putting your fingers on the keys, organic tips on a smooth surface, pressing them, soft but precisely. It was just the very first step, not even a step, a mere tiptoed creep. But, and this does matter, it helped me trump the groundless fear of making a false move.


And here we go, I don’t even know if it’s a false or a wrong move, but again I trust my artistic instinct and write what my ears like. I wasn’t ready when I started this text. I wouldn’t have been ready for a text in a foreign language even in the case that I had listened, spoken or read it for decades. But I started. And this can never be a false move.

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