Bigger isn't always better; more "professional" isn't necessarily either. On occasion, the several gold framed degrees on a professor's wall have proven themselves, as Macbeth said, "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Ms. R----'s walls are not necessarily full of sound and fury, but their contents are no less than impressive. Concert notices and calligraphic credentials hang as the artistic focal points of her office, detracted from perhaps only by the two Yamaha baby grand pianos imperviously nestled side by side at one end.
E---- is a dear, sweet lady. Her care for her students is as immaculate as her office. She is musically brilliant, wise in performance, and patient. I enjoy my lessons with her; we always have good laughs and make discoveries. Sometimes it's a little tedious though. Much of the stuff I'm playing now is not so serious as I would like to be. Maybe it's just because E---- knows not to overburden a wild-eyed freshman like me. I hadn't thought of that. She might be doing me a favor, come to think of it, but it feels like third grade. It would not be overburdening to face Rondo a la Turka, it would be a challenge. There is a difference. I won't tell you the number of times I slacked in practice out of boredom, waltzed in for my lesson, and proceeded to deliver the piece in smooth clarity. Not to brag, but I think I am ready for something harder (*pst* don't tell my mother, but whatever, I'm paying for it). Please, do not be deceived; E---- has taught me a lot and I am finally getting the hang of memorization which happens to be astonishing.
However and anon...back to the theme of bigger isn't better. Yes, all of the above is quite nice, quite nice and quite expensive. In terms of economics, I can enjoy all that and so much more under the guidance of my other mom, Susan Mino, minus wringing pockets and overly-tame pieces. If you will pardon the colloquialism, Susan is the bomb! She is a momma bear and a piano lesson isn't just a piano lesson, it's a spiritually refreshing, wholesomely relaxing, therapeutic experience. She is the epitome of a home school mom - learning is everything and everything is learning, and darn it all if you even know you are in the midst of your education because it is so much fun.
What more can I say? I suppose one doesn't realize a person's value until one stands back. Well, I'm standing back about 53 miles in South Hadley wishing to once again take lessons at Mrs. Mino's house; to sit at her rich, walnut upright while Zac writes Haiku in the kitchen, drinks cocoa, and stirs the soup, and Luci, cuddled under a blanket on the green couch, paddles through another Jane Austin.
Thanks, Mrs. Mino.
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