Pitch Perfect

You were playing a piano the day we met. I refused to believe you could play any song I asked for, but you showed me how — fingers of grace and strength waltzing through chord progressions and dancing across ivory keys faster and more fluidly than my years of formal training afforded me. Your music is a beautiful, controlled chaos, in the way that only true talent knows. You were 17 then, and you are 23 now, still the most amazing person I know. Happy birthday Sam!

We stole away into a piano store after a mini-surprise lunch with his sweet friends on wednesday, and he played me songs from the musical one year on. One thing I love about his playing is that the same song never sounds the same way twice — not needing sheet music means every note is felt from the heart and born in the moment. He also made me laugh by softly playing gentle intervals like we heard during ACJC monday worship, a chord moving from major to minor for solemn moments.

My mantra on a leather tag, which always reminds me to explore, and a balloon-sleeved polka dot top from rock star by soon lee, which I wear far too often.

We have 20 minutes to spare before catching a movie, and pop into A Curious Teepee. The store is lovely and well-curated, large and light-filled. We sit ourselves down at a wide table after browsing through the racks. It’s clean, quiet and I pretend I’m on holiday.

Ended up overestimating time and had to get my piccolo latte to go instead, which felt extremely ridiculous, like doing a shot from a beer mug. Lucky it was delicious, and just the right temperature.

Felt like this all of last week, forever tiptoeing to reclaim the balance I’ve lost since the 4am nights have started again. Recess week is here, and we all know it’s a lie, but I’ve promised myself at least one day of indulgence, and one slow afternoon to be filled with music and words, so we’ll see if I can keep from collapsing those two days into one!