“I have a burning question.”
I can’t help but to smile with amusement when I heard in a meeting. A common enough phrase, yet uncommonly used.
How often doth we engage in passionate endeavours? How often do we have the opportunity to do something we love?
I took the long way home today again, choosing to alight the bus a stop earlier then I should so that I could take a stroll. As I walked through the strip of a park, my mind wandered to piano lessons I stopped 2 years ago. I miss the feeling of my fingertips on the smooth ivory keys. I miss the challenge of deciphering all the bean-sprout notes. I had to cancel my piano classes due to work time constraints.
I’ve always wanted to play the piano. Never had the chance.. A couple of years ago, when I told her I signed up for piano classes, my mom broke my heart when she apologised, with tears in her eyes, “I’m sorry I couldn’t let you go for piano lessons. We could not afford it.”
Growing up, we could not afford many things. I’ve never blamed my parents for it.
I was rather happy with what I got. In fact, I made do with reading up and experimenting with the keyboard I had. In fact, as I remember the days, I had that bit of passionate curiosity that enabled me to self-teach from scratch, basic things like playing simple piano tunes, embroider, crochet, knit (yes.. I was rather domestic once), photoshop. As I got older, things I learnt got lesser in both scope and depth. I’ve fallen victim to Time.
At the moment, I have quite a few things I want to do. Yet, I feel stuck as I am.
I want to learn darkroom photography, I want to learn drawing, I want to finish up some pieces I have and to try my hand at working with metal. I still want to finish up my Nihongo classes and to go back to my piano lessons again.
Oh the irony.
Burn. Burning. Burnt.