Tell Me

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
~Mary Oliver

Beauty School

I had a delightful student haircut experience at Aveda Institute earlier this week. The experience begins with a scalp and shoulder massage using your choice of aromatherapy oil. Then the wash, cut, style follows. The students are usually kind and enthusiastic, and the instructors are on hand for both approval and to save the day where necessary.

As the student was blowing out my hair this week, I happened to look over at the "station" next to me. The student-stylist was sitting in the chair with a mannequin's head in her lap working intently on cutting gum out of the it's hair.

I guess that if they don't teach that in beauty school, where else are you going to learn? Who would have guessed?

My Life

I have a new student named Sean who is about 8 years old. He originally started with guitar, but didn't like to practice because it hurt his fingers. He is also a very active kid and the guitar teacher couldn't be calmer and more easy-going, so probably their temperaments didn't match either. I've been working with him for about a month, and he has just been soaring in piano. His mom told me yesterday that he practices all the time and earlier this week she asked him how he was liking piano.

He stopped what he was doing and grew serious. "Mom," he said. "It's my life."

Post-Milennials

In another lesson with a 9-yr-old who has a fascination with my cell phone, she begged me to let her text herself from my phone to hers. (Because she has a cell phone at 9 years old!!) Against my better judgment I gave her 30 seconds to write and send a message. She wrote "hi friend" and just thought it was the most hilarious thing she'd ever done.

The next evening I got a text message from that number..
"who are you?"

Thankfully I had the sense not to respond. The last thing I want is a flood of texts from a 9-yr-old who can text twice as fast as I can.

From the mouths of babes..

A piano lesson.

I told third-grader Carla that she could play "Toccata Breve" to prove to any kid that she was a great piano player. (She played this piece by memory at the recital last June.) Then I said, "I bet you still remember how to play that one."

"Nope," she corrected. "My brain is like a computer. It can change screens,... play games,.. store new things I learn, and delete stuff that I don't need anymore."