Let me tell you about a student of mine. Every week, I see pictures of this student on Facebook living her young life. She loves to dance, and she loves horses. She goes to school, does homework, and cares for pets. She lives with her mom and dad, hangs with her grandparents, and does things that most families do; vacations, school plays, family dinners, anniversary celebrations, checkups at the doctor, birthday parties. And every ordinary week, when this student comes to play for me, something extraordinary happens.

Change is inevitable, and a pal of mine. I happen to be a person who loves to inhale the freshness of Change, and I look forward to its coming around regularly. Change and I get along well. We have a mutual respect, and my perspective is optimistic; that Change isn't necessarily restrictive. This year Change pushed me to grow, stretch, and expand in lots of ways; both tangibly and intangibly. Change is pretty excited about the studio expansion, and so am I. Change asked me the other day, "What if you fail?" and I didn't have an answer. Maybe because Change has never asked me that before, or maybe because it's not my assumption that failure is an option, I didn't have an answer. And in this unanswerable question lies the foundation of the heart of my buddy, Change. If we are positive we will not fail, are we destined to succeed? 

Tiny students have tiny hands. They are so cute on the keys, and they're teachable, but how does a tiny student learn to build strength in those itty bitty fingers properly? There are several techniques parents and teachers can use to get precious fingers positioned properly for piano practice. So, who likes spiders?