
I am not white and yet I feel white. Some might say, I am brown or olive skin. Though to me, being olive makes me sound like I’m green around the edges. I’m not, of course. Continue reading
But with every new selection I’d learn to play, I kept thinking of the “Moonlight Sonata,” the classic standard that should be in every pianist’s repertoire. I’d look over the songbook, wondering if I was ready to learn it, and I’d ask Criseida for her opinion.
“No,” she’d gently say. “Not yet.”
Not by a long shot, I’m sure is what she wanted to say.
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Of course, you should know that for years I myself played the piano. Quite adept at it, I might add. I swear I could hear my mother weeping whenever I played Chopsticks. “I paid for years of lessons for this?” I’d smile in agreement for I was in bliss. Continue reading
But thanks to applying herself, Paulina’s attending a university in northern California. And now, as she sets off to college, I made a list. A list of things I think she should try to integrate into her life. Continue reading
I am not white and yet I feel white. Some might say, I am brown or olive skin. Though to me, being olive makes me sound like I’m green around the edges. I’m not, of course. Continue reading
This weekend, I went to the Lyceum and saw “The Pianist of Willesden Lane.” It’s the kind of play that slowly draws you in, exquisitely conjuring up the elegance and artistry of Vienna on the brink of World War II, as well as the heartache and loss of war. I soon found myself riveted by world-renown pianist Mona Golabek and her one-woman show. Continue reading