Not everyone knows that I also write my own songs, and one day — roughly two years ago — I decided to throw the guitar out the window and switch everything to the piano. In a dark corner of my memory, I could draw on a few lessons as a teenager (always poorly prepared by yours truly) and a bit of music theory. Turns out that wasn't going to cut it now. In fact, my piano had long served merely as a decorative piece of furniture and was above all a nightmare to move. I squatted for a while, which meant I had to relocate regularly. My otherwise always helpful friends eventually stopped answering the phone, because the 'monstrosity' (as it became known) had to come along, naturally. The 'doll's house,' as I called my unremarkable flat in Winsum where I stayed for nine months, wasn't really an option for visitors — unless they wanted to sit on the piano. Long story short: at forty-seven I decided to teach myself chords and be my own accompanist, for lack of a better option.

When I really want something and can't find an easy solution, I take the hard road and go for it — out of sheer stubbornness, mind you. I practised for months, several hours a day, and couldn't imagine a day would come when I'd be able to play the song without mistakes and sing along too. I nearly cried, that's how tough it was. But the performance happened, those songs were played for an audience by me on the piano, and the reward of the long game became abundantly clear once again. The hard work paid off, and believe me, it was by no means flawless and I'm not suddenly a brilliant pianist. In fact, a few weeks without practice and I can practically start all over again. It's work, work, work, making music, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. There's no easy way out — being an artist is brutally hard. Because the near-vomiting every time you have to go on stage, I'll just leave that aside for now. Or everything you need to set up and arrange to get the right sound at so many different venues. If you've never done it yourself, you have no idea, but believe me: musicians are underpaid by definition, unless… well… how many people get that lucky.

I do get frustrated sometimes that I dared to make these kinds of decisions so late in life. Getting REALLY good may no longer be possible in the time I have left. But! I sometimes forget that my whole life has been a long run-up to this, and the fact that I'm doing it now and enjoying it so much — that is the real reward. It's the long game of life, and you have to learn to recognise that reward. That's not always easy, because what does it even look like? Dusty, frayed, imperfect, hidden in plain sight, below par, too late, too complicated — there's always something to criticise about it, I know. But here's the secret. That first day I struck my first chords of that one song I so desperately wanted to play on the piano, I genuinely thought I'd lost my mind. The week after, I heard myself playing that little tune haltingly, a month later I was singing along (badly timed), and now, two years on, I'm composing new songs on the piano. (Ahem… sounds like quite something…)

I started, and every day I made a small step forward, nothing more than that. But do that for days, weeks, months, and then look back over your shoulder at where you came from. Just like that life that seemed like such a waste of time… How enormously valuable all those tiny steps turn out to be. So the secret is: start, and celebrate the small victories, even if it means you got it wrong ten times and right only once. That one time you got it right — that's a win!

And even now I'm inclined to say: if only someone had told me this when I was younger. Someone probably did, to be fair! But just as my son now ignores the good advice I give him, I did exactly the same when I was young. It clearly needed time. That idea had to ripen, as everything in life does, to come to fruition. I'm nearly fifty and I'm not one to shy away from a challenge anymore. What I do try to do (and above all learn), is to stop rushing. As Catherine Austin Fitts always says: 'To turtle forth…' Step by step, but above all keep moving. Well, turns out that woman knows what she's talking about…