August 11, 2021
When Hannah was age three, she was obsessed with drums. The entire fall, leading up to Christmas, all she wanted was a blue drum set. We helped her send a letter to Santa and the only thing she requested was a blue drum set. On Christmas morning when she woke up, there it was. She got a tiny blue drum set with a big red ribbon. Eleven years later and we still have that tiny blue drum set. She loved those drums and the blue sparkle shells. She made bright orange paper flowers and attached them to each drum. She played them often and loud. We never got to the point of learning “correct” drumming skills. She adored that tiny blue drum kit but was never really interested in learning how to play it. I understand. I feel the same way about sourdough bread. After a while, Mrs Brother Jack said the drum kit could no longer reside in the middle of our main living space. The tiny blue drum kit got moved to my studio. For a while, little Hannah would wander into my studio and smack away at the drums. Once she started taking violin lessons, the drumming stopped. Her younger siblings have often found their way to the tiny blue drum kit. They love to take turns rocking out. As long as I have a dedicated studio space, that tiny blue drum kit will have a home. Perhaps, someday, my grandkids will wander into my studio and smack on that tiny blue drum kit.
Subscribe to the Daily Dispatch