More On This

Recently a local, venerated jazz pianist died at 89. Through three cancers and various other health challenges, she played. When stroke rendered one arm frozen, she proclaimed that she would play again. And she played. Her regular gig last month, she played. A friend said, “The piano was what kept her here.” I think about this passion and dedication, this commitment. I’m humbled, as I slump over my computer counting up my rejections rather than…playing. I am an idiot. Just play.



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