One Brave and Wobbly Step

IMG_1922.JPG

Written by guest writer, Elizabeth Moore

Every week in the fourth grade, I hauled a little blue tote bag (that I sewed myself) to my piano teacher’s studio. Surrounded by the trophies of her former students, I played the pieces I was assigned and left with a nifty prize like a sparkly pencil or a pumpkin-shaped eraser. While most kids my age spent their Saturdays running in cross country meets or playing in soccer games, I showed up to obscure university recital halls and participated in piano competitions. It didn’t take long for me to learn that if I played the music exactly as it was written, I’d win. So I did. I mean, I didn’t always win, but I came ready to nail every note, dynamic marking, finger pattern, and weird Italian directive (andante, adagio, allegretto…) Every day for ten years, I practiced on the old upright in my parents’ living room, preparing for competitions, memorizing entire Baroque movements, and studying music theory until I was blue in the face. 

But when I got to college, I met these intriguing and mysterious individuals who could play by ear, with no music. I was legitimately thunderstruck. How? How does one nonchalantly sit at a piano and produce music without first pouring over the score for days? WEEKS! With a tinge of resentment, I realized that even though I could regurgitate notes, I had never actually learned to make music. So what if I could whip out Rachmaninoff at a dinner party? That was significantly less cool than the people who were playing Coldplay by ear.  

A few days ago, I read a story by professional tap dancer Ayodele Casel in Suleika Jaouad’s Isolation Journals where she recalls the first time she saw a tap dancer improvise, and wondered how someone could come up with something so spectacular off the top of their head! When she asked her mentor, he simply said, “It starts with a step.” So she tried it. She took a step, and then another step, and then another. One step at a time, continuous movement, until she was tapping all over the place. 

I’ve wanted to branch out and make my own music since college, but perfectionism and performance anxiety has kept me from taking the first step. I was afraid to acknowledge that I’d have to bang out some terrible-sounding chords before something not-so-terrible could emerge. But this quarantine is making us do things we’ve never done before. People are cross-stitching pillows; friends are posting backyard yoga videos; others are cooking beef bourguignon; my sister-in-law is sewing me a dress for crying out loud! And me? I’m eyeing my keyboard like it’s plotting to either seduce or hurt me. 

So this week, I finally sat down to play with no sheet music and it felt weird. I sat quietly for a minute--it’s important to go slowly with these things--and then played one note, and then another, and then another. Those notes turned into a melody which turned into a chord progression which turned into my left hand playing the same three notes while my right hand fumbled around with something resembling a tune. It sounded painfully imperfect, but felt scandalously liberating. I was doing it. One step at a time, I was creating something out of nothing. 

So what about you? Is there a dormant skill or interest that you’re curious to pursue? If so, what is one brave and wobbly step you can take this week? If it helps, I’ll be right there beside you, stumbling around a keyboard, discovering music that doesn’t exist yet. 

PS: To encourage you in your journey, enjoy this little video of my own awkward foray into the world of invention, taking one step (or playing one note) at a time. Please excuse the unfortunate sound quality. Embrace the imperfection of discovery, friends! 

Elizabeth Moore earned her Bachelor of Arts in English Writing from from Mississippi College in 2015, and completed the Columbia Publishing Course at Oxford University in the Fall of 2018. Prior to the Columbia Publishing Course, she worked as a virtual assistant to bestselling authors and as a writing consultant to aspiring authors, helping write and edit book proposals, digital and print articles, workbooks, and manuscripts. She is now a Publishing Assistant for Vintage & Anchor Books at Penguin Random House. You can read more of her work on her website.