as i was walking into the gym at 5:45am yesterday morning, i heard a faint squeeky whisper, calling my name through the chilly morning air.
"what?" i said out loud, startled with the sound of my own voice cutting through the darkness.
i looked over my left shoulder and saw the object of beckoning.
it was an old abandoned piano sitting on the curb covered in fall debris.
i walked over to it, pulled out the bench, and opened the cover.
it whispered to me again.
"oh alright. this is kinda weird but i'll play you".
all shivering subsided as i allowed my fingers to explore the ancient and cracked keys of this worn down gentlemen.
maybe it was the moment of timeless solitude.
or maybe it was the dreamlike trance i was still in at that time of day.
or maybe it really was the soul spilling from this old crooner-
or who knows, maybe it was all of these things squeezing my heart until i knew, i had to have him.
$30 later and an uncalled for amount of disgust and speculation from the husband, he's sitting in my living room. john the piano man came over today and told me he would find me a "good" piano for the same amount of money it would cost to fix up this 1930's Lester. he also told me that the only reason i like it so much is because i found it, like a lost kitten.
i told him i loved him because he's perfectly flawed.
he tuned the keys that were still intact and told me he'd call me when he'd found a suitable replacement.
i told he had his work cut out for him.
"it needs to have a soul like lester. i don't want anything unless it feels like lester".
in the mean time, i plan on playing this dirty of sonofagun and maybe painting it blue.
and taking it on some cool photo shoots like this. who's on board?!:
here's some morning shots of the boys for grandma and grandpa:
you think he looks bad? you should see the other guy/empty diaper box.
some sous chefs
1 day ago