As the story continues, piano lessons began when I turned five years old, with Mrs. Godfrey, who lived about a mile away from us near Maranacook Lake in Winthrop, Maine. I went for lessons weekly until I turned 14 years old. She trained me on classical piano – of which now I’m very grateful – but I never looked forward to the lessons, as I usually procrastinated in practicing, and I HATED the mandatory recitals.
All her students and their parents would sit in the room and watch each student play their piece. I always became so nervous to the point where my hands and feet would be shaking. At 14, my parents gave me the option to quit, and so I did.
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