Someone is playing a piano somewhere and I am sincerely attracted to it.  A huge part of me wants to get up and go find it--the piano and its player.  I have no idea who it is; sitting in the basement of Old Main, it could be any of a thousand different people.  I can name a handful of people that would become virtually irresistible if they played.  Piano just makes people more attractive.  There's a beauty in it, a softness in it, that can make even someone normally hard, cold, stark seem... less so.  The piece being played is beautiful.  In my mind's eye I envision the face of someone I saw in a movie once, tilted just slightly, eyes half-closed, attentive and entranced by the music he's playing; his torso leaned forward just a bit, not even a full twenty degrees.  Hands move lithely over keys, pressing down in patterns complicated only to someone who doesn't understand, perhaps to those who do.  Bouncing lightly over chords and progressions, key changes...  Piano is such a beautiful, underrated instrument.  It's so much in terms of dynamic, terms of emotion and feeling.  There's so much that can be felt in other people's music.  So much that can change in mind and in heart.  It's... complicated.

This is the thing.  I am attracted to the piano and the ability to play it.  Not necessarily the people that play it.  It doesn't automatically make me like a person.  Yes, it makes them more attractive, but not necessarily in the way that would change how I feel about them.  Playing piano doesn't make up for everything else; it's just a point in their favor.  A big point, but nonetheless.  I'm drawn to piano.  It opens up something inside of me, like a door into a level of philosophical trains of thought that I usually don't delve into.  But, again, its kind of like... incoherent.  It's this inner flow of concepts and thoughts without words, feelings and emotions that I just don't have words for.  And maybe I could learn words for them, but I haven't learned them yet.  I'm not skilled enough with the English language to adequately explain it or discuss it.  I feel almost as though it's a disservice to you to mention it and then just cut the topic short.  I wish I could do better; I really do.

I wish I could play the piano better than I can at present.  I wish that I had the talent necessary to play real music, evoke real emotional responses like those invoked in me.  Maybe some day.

I have class now. So I'm going to go.  But chew on that for a bit.  I might come back later and talk some more about something else.  We shall see.
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--Emily Renae