To get to know a friend is to try finding things in common. Pick a topic–hobby, age, birth signs, politics–between two people there has got to be something you can talk about. My friend Andy and I are excited over our dyslexia. It may be too broad a term to describe the sense of loss in our childhood, but we definitely were not wired optimally and timely. I remember eating an interminable lunch at my desk, while the rest of the class lined up to go somewhere. But more tragically was the lack of comprehension on all subjects (except music) no matter how hard I tried.
For some, the wires of writing, reading, remembering, comprehending, interest, drive and skills in the “jelly-mold” may never touch. The disconnect is real and surreal. I don’t understand why I write poems and not be able to read others’. My love of sound does not help me in learning a language. People said if you can play the piano you can type. That’s an assumption that I can prove them wrong. Anyway, I tell my piano students the brain is a separate entity of the body. In order to make it work for you, you have to command and repeat an action over and over again. That means practice, practice, practice.
