By the time he was two months old, I was able to prop him on my lap and play. He loved to watch my hands move around the keys, and even tried a few notes himself.
When he could pull up to stand, he could often be found at the piano bench, plink, plink, plinking away.
Now he is a big boy, getting up on the bench all by himself. There he will sit for long periods, alternately gazing out the window and then playing a few notes and singing along while his body sways back and forth and his little legs swing along.
Rarely does he pound on the keys or just try to make noise. Instead, he chooses his notes carefully and deliberately. To some, it may sound like just a bunch of random notes, but to him it is music. It struck me that as adults we lose our ability to just 'make music.' As in many other parts of our lives, we get caught up with all the rules. Rules that make music what we think it is supposed to sound like. Rules that impose on our creative energy. We are critical of the sounds we make just by playing with music, while a child can swing and sway to a song created out of one or two notes, just by playing and experimenting with the rhythm in which they are played.
To listen to a child making music, or to make music with a child opens up a whole world of creativity that is lost to us. Maybe I will stop reading the music once in a while and just play the piano like Noah.