I am attracted to the starkness of the black and white pattern of the keyboard. When my eight-year-old daughter wanted to take piano, I thought I would take also. As an adult, I felt like I could freshen up on the lessons I took at the same age so many years ago. Neither of us turned out to be virtuosos, but we had some good times. She faired better than I. Years have passed, and now her daughter is taking lessons. The sight of a piano somehow is comforting to me. I may not can play, but I enjoyed painting the keys.
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