the happy place

I've been working hard.

I haven't been here in your presence.

There have been a few weeks of healing, and The Thug is doing so much better, with the exception of those lumps.  He looks a little on the Quasimodo side with some strange lumps from healing too fast or some strange phenomenon Dr. Bob told Papi and me about.

Our hearts had to heal as well.  It was really hard to edit his footage.

In perfect timing, I've had an opportunity to use playing as a way to feel better through all this.  I've been really enjoying learning new songs for gigs here on the island.

I've taken a temporary detour from translating all the songs I wanted to perform solo in mostly Spanish sets.  I'm working toward 3 potential performances.

It has been glorious to sing and sing and sing and play and sing and play ...

Anyway, I've been practising other songs that are just as difficult for me to memorize as songs in Spanish.

Many moons and moons and stars ago, I was in college in a jazz program.  I'm revisiting this practise of jazz and blues, even though I've been engulfed in pop and rock since the middle of that college program.

There has been a wee obstacle.

My piano.

My machine has been eaten by the salt air that we can sometimes see in the pictures or video we take.

The ocean has already marred my baby.  She's feeling the effects of the salt air, even though I've done my best to keep the doors closed when I play her.

We've only been playing together for, what?  8 months?

She is crying.  An arthritic body.  Some joints hurt, some bones ache, but she doesn't creak, she honks.

Seriously.

Honks.

There are times I won't even get through a song without the offense that I am in combat with.

Not to mention, this week, she has begun giving me the silent treatment.  Utter refusal to sing certain notes.

My finger sinks into the plastic with no emotion.  Dead note.

But only when I ask her to play more than 3 notes.

I've taken my songs down to bones of only 3 notes to adjust to her temperament.

Spacial playing.  Yeah.  I have an angry piano.

I have found someone to give her the attention she's been honking for.

He was very good at speaking slow Spanish to me on the phone.  When Dr. Piano found out where I lived on the island, he commented, "You know there are people closer to you in Puerto Plata and Sosua?"

Well, I have searched for someone who could definitively say, "I know someone who fixes digital pianos."

That 'someone', Dr. Piano, was referred to me by someone who knows gear in the country.  A guy at a recording studio here on the other side of the country.  I trust him.

So when Dr. Piano tried to refer me to someone who may be closer, I explained  "Well, Wanny told me you were the best in the country.  So, I want the best in the country."

Dr. Piano just laughed and we decided I'll be bringing her in on Thursday.

Thankfully, I practised enough before she had to go in for her visit with the doctor.

I still need her home fast.  I can't perform with a honking piano.

And I can't be here with you as much as I'd like to be.

But I do miss being here.

I'm just busy, and it's the best place for me.

self-worth.  that is pleasant.