Growing up in South Africa my parents involved us from a very early age in the theatre and arts. I remember going to plays with my parents and then performing in plays. The first play I performed in was Oliver Twist, but my most favorite play I performed in was The Wind in the Willows. As all good children do I played the piano and the recorder and those long afternoons of practicing and dear Sister Helen 'tapping' my knuckles with a thin cane should I dare to make an error.
In high school I stopped playing the piano, but my love for all things musical never dwindled. I spent many weekend evenings at the symphony, the opera and the ballet. Seeing the Bolshoi Ballet, The Royal Ballet and the New York City Ballet perform was absolutely breathtaking. No matter what event I attended my cheeks were always damp from the tears. (Except for the opera The Flying Dutchman, that is one very long, loud, boring opera)
Since moving to America and becoming a wife and mother, I stopped attending any of these events. Expense being one reason another that my spouse at the time did not hold the same fascination I did and so I gave that up and in a sense lost a little part of me.
This past week at the hotel there was a music festival. The list of performers was very impressive. I had heard that a young boy, Adam Jackson, was going to be performing and was able to watch him perform for a very select audience. When he first started to play I was transported back in time. As I watched his fingers lightly dance over the keys I was mesmerized. The part of me that I thought I had lost came alive again.
As I wiped my damp cheeks I remembered a great quote from Berthold Auerbach, "Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life."
I couldn't agreed more.