This picture says more than I can about me and music.
It was nearly twenty eight years ago when that Polaroid slipped out of its plastic slot and I magically appeared on it, but the image–and sentiment–it holds is as present as ever: I still feel sincere joy when I play an instrument. And though my skills and my instruments have improved, my hairstyle and my footy wardrobe have not.
That face is beginning to look less like mine any more and more like my daughter’s. Seeing it elicits the same response in me, though: love for life–for its basic simplicity and hope, and for the central place that music has taken in securing that simplicity and hope for me.
In many ways I may not be that boy any more, but I strive to be like him in the very best ways I can.