Even before my son was born, I consciously selected music that I wanted him to hear. I am not only into the music and lyrics of artists, but their back stories also lend to my impression and appreciation of them. When I look at Miles’ beginnings, it’s cool to learn that at a young age his mother wanted him to learn piano, as she, unknown to Miles, could play the blues. Miles didn’t start learning music formally until he was 13, after his dad gave him a trumpet.
At our house, August is surrounded by drums, percussion, guitars and a piano. We’re not pushing him to one specific instrument, he is way too young to even understand what they really are now, but we don’t keep anything away from him. My true love plays piano, she’s classically trained, so there’s a good chance that will influence my son.
The little plastic toy trumpet, which is not the easiest instrument for a one-year-old to get sound out of, keeps getting picked up. Then again, it also keeps getting dropped, for what I can only guess is for the sound it makes when it hits whatever surface it lands on. That might seem annoying, but to him, that’s pretty cool.
No comments:
Post a Comment