noturkey

Playing the piano around other people used to be so difficult for me. I would sit with the volume on 1/10 on my keyboard when my roommate was home. And when I first started playing with my guitarist friends, they would always have to turn me up to hear me. Now, sharing my piano playing is one of my sweetest joys in life. It took a long time to get here, and I have friends to thank for the push. 💜

Posting these piano videos has been a game-changer for my life. For so long, the idea of putting what I create online has had a negative connotation. I’m probably terrified of the judgment deep down, even if I don’t outwardly say so. Yet as Seth Godin frames it: To not make your work available is to not provide generosity where you otherwise could. Perhaps nobody will benefit from me putting out videos of me growing at my artform—there’s always a chance of that; there are no guarantees. But what if you help one person by sharing? If you don’t make your art available, it serves nobody but you. This practice of posting my progress on the piano every week will continue and I hope to become even more disciplined and structured. And I can already feel it influencing how I think about the rest of my work. I’d like to post these videos to YouTube eventually, cultivating listeners there; I’d like to take my writings and put them online; I’d like to take my doodles and post those as well. Will it benefit anyone? Maybe not. But I’m learning through these growing pains, it’s something I must do.

With this piano diary, I’m documenting my progress with the piano. Likewise, like lily pads across a pond, I’m documenting snapshots of life, and of memories, and ideas and thoughts. It’s a life I wish to show, or perhaps more importantly, a life I wish to live. It’ll likely end up being filled with walks through the forest and days at the river. Or playing with friends out in nature. Or, more likely, documentation of my cats. But who knows, I tend to dream big when I build something new.

My new roommate started calling Oatmilk Latte “Princess”. I thought it was really sweet. I like when people fall in love with Oatmilk. She’s different than Mr. Sunshine. Mr. Sunshine is easy to love. He’s very dog-like in his mannerisms. Always wants to say hello or play or cuddle. Whereas Oatmilk is reserved and quiet and self-sustaining. When she wants to be pet, it feels like an honor to be chosen (very cat-like). What’s more, I didn’t intend to have Oatmilk come with me when I moved. In Brooklyn, when my roommate and I originally talked about the cats, Mr. Sunshine was mine and Oatmilk was his. So, Oatmilk and I didn’t have as tight of a bond, and I certainly felt it when I moved across country with the two cats. She didn’t train as easily as Milo. In fact, she paid no attention to me when I told her for the twelfth time to stop knocking over the trashcan. It took a while to learn how to communicate with her, and now we’re good buds. She even knows a few tricks now. When I see her get all the attention from others, it makes me smile. She’s the princess. Princess Oatmilk Latte. — #pianojourney #piano #music #livemusic

Summer is coming. With it comes the long days, the late night conversations over wine, and the inertia to move mountains. Swimming at the lake after work is normal, and everybody wants to travel. There’s energy in the air. It’s getting warmer here, and I’ve been playing more piano with less clothes. I’m still trying to learn how to break out of 4:4 rhythm. I’d also like to play songs in every key. There’s so much to do and so little time. I hope you’re enjoying your soon-to-be summer months. #piano #music #livemusic #livepiano

When I think about this piano journal, I think about capturing every facet of it. I want to capture the moments of flow, the moments of polished composition, and even more, the moments of practice. When I was first learning how to play the piano, I would refuse to watch any YouTube video; I would refuse piano lessons; I would refuse music books. My thinking was: If a child can sit and absorb and learn an instrument, then so could I. So that’s how I practiced. Day after day, I sat in front of a piano hitting buttons until something sounded good. Then I’d more of that, then I’d try something new, then I’d do more of that. First it was one finger at a time, then one hand, then a couple fingers on each hand, and so on. Whatever sounds good, I keep playing; whatever doesn’t, I try to learn from it. It’s been a wonderful journey, and I still enjoy just sitting down with no agenda—one question in mind: what sounds good?

When I was 28 and living in Brooklyn, two special creatures walked into my life. Or maybe I walked into theirs. They were barely bigger than ducklings—”kitten nuggets” is what I called them. There was six of them altogether, plus mom. Mom (“Monster Truck”) was spayed and treated and after a short recovery period in our bathroom was released back to her home: the streets of Brooklyn. The other six wouldn’t have survived the incoming winter, and so me and my roommate took them all in. We fostered six kittens in our New York apartment—feeding them, vaccinating them, de-fleaing, de-worming, all of it. We managed to get two adopted to a family—Abba Zabba Gold and Amelia Earhart—then two more to another family—Bitty and Angus. Then there were two remaining: Milo Sunshine (“Mr. Sunshine” as he’s gotten older and more mature) and Oatmilk Latte. When my roommate and I parted ways, they both came with me across the country to a little town in Northern California. Now we live here together. For me, they represent responsibility. Responsibility is an interesting concept, one that I always thought was hoisted upon an individual as they got older. But that’s not the case at all. As I’ve aged I’ve learned that responsibility is taken; it’s grasped firmly and defiantly. You see, the world and the individual both want to let go of responsibility. It’s easier to say no, to run away, to let someone else handle it. They also represent frustration. They represent broken glasses and clawing my leg at 3am and pooping in my shower and eating pieces of foam that gets stuck in their stomach and costs $4,000 to remove surgically. Money that you didn’t really have to spare, but it was money that you would’ve never withheld. That frustration and that responsibility has morphed into a certain type of love, one that’s honorbound, one that’s divine. I didn’t ask for them to come into my life, and I didn’t ask them to keep me up at night and make me lose my mind. But I also didn’t ask them to cuddle with me for hours on end; I didn’t ask them to come and sit by my side every time I cried and felt alone. And they didn’t ask for me, either: a sometimes grouchy, often neurotic, always forgetful mess of a human who’s trying their damndest to provide them a life they love. This is Oatmilk Latte & Mr. Sunshine, and I love them very much.

Just friends doing friend things. Friend things like playing music in the Big Sur forest by a creek. Friend things like wine and paint night and green juice to detox. Friend things like omelettes before work and more jammy jams after. Friendship is important. That’s a lesson I learn every time I veer too far from myself. I hope you enjoy some silly and electric tunes. And I hope you say hello to someone today, maybe an old friend or a new one. -noturkey

Learning the piano has been a rewarding journey. But like with all things, there are ebbs and flows of creative excitement and apathy. Some days, it comes easy. Other times, you just have to force yourself to do it. I think everyone has that “thing” they don’t do but should. I should hike more. I should play piano more. I should make more time for friends. I tend to have a lot of those things… That’s okay; I’ll figure it out. Bird by bird. If you’re listening to this, I hope you can zone out a little and enjoy. And maybe you’ll also get to that “thing” you have to force yourself to do. With love~ -noturkey

It’s been a long, cold winter, and I’m happy to feel the sun again. The audio quality of this video (and subsequent videos) will remain low until I have the funds for an electric keyboard or better microphones. Until then, welcome to my piano practice and my journey. My goal is to one day create long-form piano music that people can just put in their headphones and zone out. Or maybe I can create something worth listening to while painting or writing or doing the dishes. I have a lot of thoughts, but I suppose I’ll share them at a later date. -noturkey