It’s Friday night, one of those nights that invites for staying home.
Me and my wife have just said goodbye to the piano tuner, and we are both eager to get started.
The old piano is a Zimmerman from 1892, has its small creeks and special identity after spending it’s last years in a basement. I can only imagine where it has been on its long 123 years journey.
I know that it was used in an old pub in Oslo as a bar piano. And I also know it spent some 50 years after world War two in a hotel. But there is no stories beyond that.
So after this long wait of a four hour session of repairs and tuning, I could finally sit down in front of the piano and breathe in its beautiful noise and acoustic crisp noise.
The only thing left now is to learn how to play
MesAyah 
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