As I type this, my twelve-year-old son is upstairs playing Monk on the piano. It sounds good – for a few bars, and then it gets a little rough.
He loses the melody. Or the rhythm. Or both. He starts over. Or ploughs through. Some parts are polished. Others not so much.
But he keeps practicing. He's not getting it overnight. No one will. You know why?
Because playing Monk is really hard.
Monk was a genius. He didn't follow the rules. He played unusual chords no one even thought to play. Dissonant notes that didn't resolve. Strange syncopations on the right hand. Three or four octave strides on the left.
And that's why we love him. Why he's iconic. Why his songs are in piano books. Why he's inspirational. Why he motivates us to learn and grow and thrive.
And that's why we should all appreciate the difference between learning from someone else and trying to be someone else.
Monk was unique. There will never be another like him. My son is unique. There will never be another like him.
Will my son get better at playing Dinah and North of the Sunset on the piano? Absolutely! Will he ever be Monk? No.
People we admire should inspire us to be better versions of ourselves. Not to be replicas of them.
Enjoy: https://lnkd.in/gXRB9tN