All three of my daughters have their own musical genius (entirely from their mother, I assure you). Sophie is the singer. Quinn, my kinetic middlest daughter, leans towards dance, as you might expect:
Carolyn, on the other hand, may be my proper musician. I’m still playing guitar everyday, and every time I pluck the first note, she stops whatever she’s doing and crawls across the house to find me. She has a perfect uncomplicated joy in the sound of a true note or a charming chord. There’s no need to carry out our ‘symbolic object’ birthday challenge; I know that Carolyn will pick the guitar if it is offered to her.
This is both good and bad for my practice: on one hand, it’s fantastic to have such a reliably enthusiastic audience. On the other hand, Carolyn wants to participate, which makes it difficult to concentrate on challenging pieces like Bach’s cello suites. The nearby images show Carolyn helping me find the G-major chord that concludes the Prelude of Cello Suite #1. As a bonus, you can also see the burr hole scar behind my ear from where they drilled the mounting screws during my surgery.
Carolyn: never forget to appreciate what’s beautiful. Maybe by the time you are old enough, I will have learned enough guitar to teach you something useful. That is a beautiful thought by itself.