The icy darkness of the Nordic winter can't stop me.
My nervousness almost does, sometimes.
Still, I wrap myself in layers of white and green wool every Monday evening and go out, sheet music clasped in thick mittens. I walk with the certainty that as I play this week's song for my teacher I will experience the miracle: A collection of difficult chords that made little sense a week ago have been transformed, through her advice and my own persistence, into music.
There's a small, bright room with a piano at the end of my walk - a portal into an unknown world. There's someone to teach me to play that piano, and there's music that flows - greater than the sum of its parts, wild with emotions.
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