For the past month especially moving into the Christmas season I have wanted to play the piano and let my fingers dance from key to key. Tonight in my "Dead man's pose," yoga for those who do not know, I imagined myself as someone different than who I really am.
I do not know if all of you know about a young girl by the name of Thumblina, but she was extremely small no bigger than a regular human thumb. So if you do this correctly and clink on the link provided below you may be able to grasp what my mind projected to me.
Dressed in tights and a leotard I begin to dance the keys in the opener of the song following through with a pirouette making sure my leg is straight until I bend at the knee to empower another twirl. My outfit begins to change as the lyrics begin from pink to black reflecting a fear about to set inside of me. Then once the music changes with power I jump into a back flip leading with my right leg straight in front of my as my left leg straight follows, but the jumps do not stop after one. I feel as if I am jumping on a trampoline even though it is just the white ivories of the mini grand piano I have always wanted bursting through my chest.
The chorus calms into a steady beat as my outfit changes color one more time into blue this time covered in a drab cloak as I now begin to dance across the top of the piano watching as human fingers move through the notes in the chords. I sit down on my knees feeling lonely and very lost. As I slide down to the keys smelling the sweat left from the fingers that continued to play I find my reflection staring at me across "Steinway" which is the brand of the piano. It is here I realize that the face looking back is not me. It is the girl I always wished I was and never will be. She was the one everyone wanted in the places I was never good enough. I was her failures and she was my goals I never reached.
In the quickest moment we separated from each other. I was left to stare at the reflection as she danced off with her partner performing pirouettes and jete across the keys that my fingers so longed to feel. To allow my fingers dance across the keys was the one thing I felt in my heart that was purely beautiful. I watched the girl I longed to be hoping to rejoin her, only to see her kiss the one that I would love, the one that I would never be with because I was never enough, a standardless fool.
A tear began to fall from my eye as I turned around back to the Steinway label watching as time passed before my eyes aging me from my current state to an old cripple in minutes as my heart froze over and spreading to the piano that I stood on. I began to hate the girl I never was because she got everything I ever wanted. I froze her in mid-pose until my anger filtrated over leading me to smash the ice sculpture she and my love had become. In this moment I began to cry wailing at the top of my lungs trying to hold on to my life knowing that it is in this moment I have to let go of everything: things I wanted, things I never had, things I deserved, and who I had become. The old woman who was left looking at the Steinway label walked down the keys in the bass part of the piano until she vanished through the keys in a cloud of smoke.
I may not understand what went through my head and I am sure for those of you who like to psychoanalyze things will take a liking to this. I guess I do not expect to know the meaning because it is my life already. We are all just in a production dancing until our hearts are satisfied or until the heart is weighted down and frozen in time.
