Number 7 is about image and sun and finding your own way and Bob Marley.Number 7 is the place where you should let your hair down, loosen your belt, drink a root beer, and free yourself from whatever preconceived notions you hold toward poetry, art, and writing.
Here is a photo of my work space. This is a piano bench. My piano bench does not contain music because I play by ear, or by finger, as shall be explained after the jump.
Here is a story: I started playing piano when I was quite young. A kind and terrifying woman named Marjorie taught me and my sisters. I did not understand notes and music. I labelled the notes 1, 2, 3, 4, & 5 so I would know which finger to use. In this way, I got by.
[fast forward to 2007] I typed my middle son’s name into the piano keys: this was Oakley’s song. I typed his full name. I typed a message. I continued in this way until the name was gone and suddenly I discovered that I loved piano. I loved the sounds I could make without having those awkward pauses caused by the hunt-and-peck style I’d been forced to learn.
Even now I can hear my mother’s mumbling as she would hunt for the correct combination of notes (aka: chord). I used to beg her to play the few songs she knew by heart. It turns out, I don’t care how correct a thing is, only that it is confident.