The Painted Piano

Happy Friday y'all!  This topic is a biggie for me.  I was going to start with how I painted my piano...and what I learned from that experience.  But then I thought about it....and I decided to rewind a bit, and share with you the story behind my piano.  I think once you know the story, reading about the painting part will be that much better!  

I am a music lover.  I sing, I play piano (but I DON'T read music!)....I never liked that part of piano lessons....the "lesson"/reading music part.  I just wanted to play songs from the radio.   I still love playing, and I as long as I am able, I always will!  I realize it is a gift.  And for that I am thankful.        

My piano holds deep sentiment.  It is a symbol of profoundly rooted love, sacrifice, and hard work.   I will get to that part later.   But first, I want to share how my early piano playing days began.   When I was really little ( I don't even know how old), I just knew I wanted to play piano. No one else in my family played, so we didn't have a piano.   At the breakfast table, I used to pretend to play.  I remember hearing the songs in my head, and using my fingers to stroke each imaginary key.  To me it made perfect sense, but to my sister who had to endure it all through breakfast....probably not so much!   

My grandparents had a piano....neither of them played.  Eight thirteen East South Street is where my early piano lesson days my grandparents living room!   My grandpa would take a nap on the couch in the adjacent room while I "practiced" my lessons.  I have no idea how he slept through it!   But he loved it.  And so did I.   I never really thought about having my own piano, in my own house.  I just knew when it was time to practice, I went to grandma and grandpa's.  

After about a year of piano lessons, my parents decided to invest in our own piano.  I was so excited to have one in my very own house.  A piano i could play anytime I wanted.   It was my dream come true!   

Fast forward about 17 years.  When Karl and I were newly weds we lived in an apartment, and since room was limited, we had to store the piano in our garage.  That didn't stop me from playing though!   When we bought our first house, the piano moved up in the world to an official home.  A few moves and one more storage experience later, the piano now stands near my office.   I play to relax, I play when I'm excited, I play when I'm sad, and I play when I'm happy.  It truly is the most wonderful piano and I will never let it go. 

I love the piano even more now;  not only because it is beautiful and blue, but because it remains a symbol of all the greatest, hard work, sacrifice.   My parents worked hard for that piano and knowing them, they made a few sacrifices along the way in order to afford it. I will be forever grateful for those sacrifices and for the opportunity I was given to explore my love for music.  It is a gift I do not take for granted, and one that I hope I will always have. 

And now you know why my piano means so much.  If you have been following my blog, or have seen my posts on facebook, you know I love painting furniture! What was to stop me from painting my piano?  Not a thing.  When I began researching piano painting, I found that there are mixed emotions about the topic.  I had no idea!  But I also discovered there were many more positives than negatives.   I didn't look back... and the next thing I knew, I was enthralled in the first coat of blue paint. 

Maybe this has sparked your curiosity about painting your own piano.  Have you ever thought about it?  It can be scary to choose a paint color for something like a piano, but, like I always say, "Paint is temporary!" Whether a bold color, neutral, or original wood finish,  pianos really are beautiful. I think my blue piano is the most beautiful of them all....because of its story.    

Do you have a piano story?  Please share here by leaving a comment, or share to    Picture are great too!