When I improvise on the piano, I have the sensation not so much of creating music, but rather of channeling music that comes from somewhere within me that is a bit mysterious. The simple act of moving my fingers over the piano keyboard brings up a kind of emotional resonance distinctly different from the feelings I experience in other contexts. It’s almost as though there is an alternate personality in my head, one that speaks not in words but in music.
Just as there is a kind of split in our brains between the left side and the right side, perhaps there is a similar split between the musical and the non-musical parts of our mind, reflecting some schism that began long ago in human evolution. When we create music, or sing along to a favorite song, or simply listen as a beloved tune comes on the radio, maybe we are actually experiencing a kind of identity shift, becoming — for a time — this alternate version of ourselves.
Who is this person that I feel inside me when I improvise on the piano? What existence does he have outside of musical expression? I get the feeling that he feels emotion more deeply than I do, and that I might have much to learn from him. It would be great if we could one day just go for a coffee and have a good chat.
But that is unlikely to ever happen, because we don’t speak the same language.