Epiphany Monet

I understood why my brother would spend hours and hours playing. I actually “stole” the guitar that I play now from my brother. He always jokes that he taught me everything I know. He may not have taught me all of the notes, but he did show me how to put everything I have into a song. It was definitely scary at first. (If I’m being honest, it still is.)

 Open mics became a weekly habit for me thanks to my best friend who convinced me that performing, although terrifying, is simultaneously freeing. I am grateful to have a place where I could grow and see so many different types of music. I had never seen people who were willing to be vulnerable in a room full of strangers. Sometimes my best friend and I would use fake names on the sign up sheet to calm down the nerves.

We also had a rotation of band names that never seemed quite right which is a common dilemma in the lives of musicians. On the way home, I would replay the performance in my head and point out all of my mistakes. I would laugh with my mom about forgetting a lyric or fumbling over the guitar strings. She would tell me that no one probably noticed that I messed up. I would just try to do better the next time.