Sticky Matters
I've been playing piano for my church in Melbourne this semester and it has been bringing back memories of my younger days when I was learning how to play the instrument. I choose to remember only the happy lessons, not the lessons where my music teacher would repeatedly tell me to curl my fingers and sit up straight.My music teacher used to live 10 doors down from my home. Every Wednesday morning at 9am I would walk to her place for lessons. I can still remember the smell of her house (she had the whole house air-conditioned and installed some sort of air freshening device so her house always smelt and felt nice). We would then go through the few pieces she got me to practice for the day and if I did well, she would reward me.
The reward was in the form of stickers. Not just any stickers, really beautiful stickers that I coveted (to my innocent 6 year old eyes, they were the best things in the world). If I was up to par, she would tell me to go into her spare room and take out a box that contained these marvelous stickers and let me pick one, sometimes two if I was especially good. I believe that those stickers played a very big role in motivating me to become the pianist I am today.
Reminiscing.
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