Music in my life...

Yeah... I just can't imagine a single minute of my lifetime without music... I began singing when I was 2...
I spent almost all my early childhood going to and fro from hospitals. Doctors had diagnosed me a serious TBC illness to the spine. Fortunately, they were wrong or a miracle happened... I wouldn't be here, alive, otherwise...
Three years far away from my family... the first one with my body, legs, arms, completely & continuously tied to a wooden plank... I could only move my head, open my mouth when nuns or nurses came feed me with their own hands or pour water into it...
Although I can't remember how much I suffered phisycally, I remember so well how much I missed my family's warmth...
I used to sing, so often, a song "Vola colomba..." (Fly, my white dove...)...
Because of lack of means, my parents, my grandma Marianna, my auntie Peppina, could visit me rarely... they wondered how a child, me,in such a condition, much alike a heap of bones, could always sing that song... they heard me even before stepping in that large room... and, needless to say it, that made them have tears in their eyes and a lump in their throats... they had few hope left... some young people of our village had just died of TBC...
But why that song? What ever could I know about its real meaning? A longing for life & freedom & love? I was only 3, after all, and so ill...
"Oh God of the Heaven, were I a white dove, I wish I could fly over there to meet my love..."
I can't but believe that God took it as my own prayer and answered it...
Eventually, I could go back home happy and healthy and so willing to sing!
"Vola Colomba..." (Fly, my white dove...), a song which deeply marked my life and still gives me and my family goose pimples...

The 1st of August 1952... Pietro, me, 3 years old... on the Venice Lido's beach... the day of my admission to hospital (or "hell"?)... I didn't know what was gonna happen... Nice hair style, ain't it? My mom was so good at combing me...

Don't think I've ever been "un enfant prodige" or a "genius"... I guess I was given a good ear for music and quite a strong memory.
As a child I used to follow my daddy at church where he played, by ear, an harmonium (a kind of small organ), and sang on Sunday and all celebrations: I was so proud of singing together with him! He had learned some guitar just to accompany my uncle Gino's mandolin and his friend Amanzio's accordion.
In the years from 1947 to 1956, the three of them went play and sing here and there, on foot, wherever someone asked for them. Their only pay was sitting at a table with good food and wine.
The 99% of families,in our valley, including mine, were peasant, most of them poor, which didn't prevent them from dancing alot... Houses, barns, even stables, could often be transformed into ballrooms...
Harmonium, guitar, mandolin, accordion, couldn't but feed both my fantasy and my passion for music...
It was then that I began getting aware of how easily a song, a piece of music, could carry me away to another world... dimension...

1968... The White Eagles...
our rock band (from right to left: Paolo, my brother, organ; Mauro, drums; Maurizio, singer; Luigi, my brother, electric bass; Marco, guitar & vocalist; Pietro, me, guitar & singer & vocalist...)
Beatles, BeeGees, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Rolling Stones,
Joe Cocker, Procol Harum, Wilson Pickett... we liked and performed many of their songs...

1994... a big dream of mine comes true...

I was 45 and I managed to compose a 4 part hymn, to teach & direct my choir performing it at a local amateur competition. I won the 1° Award...
That will happen again in 1995... A "turning point" which helped me find out the "healing power" of music on myself...
Before 1994, I had been suffering from PAD (Panic Attack Disorder)for 15 years: its scary symptoms had caused me, all of a sudden, to lose my usual job, to live "housebound"... Unable to step out, I had to find a job I could do at home with the help of my wife & children...
15 years are quite a long while... in my free time, playing my piano, studying music & English, reading and writing letters (mostly in English) seemed to be the best way I had to cope with my anxiety and depression... I had been taking all kinds of meds, seeing specialists & therapists, for years without any effective results but spending lots money...
I'd never imagine the "results" might come from music and, even less, through "composing"... I remember that invitation of a friend of mine,to do had made me laugh... "Are you kidding me?" was my first answer... I thought it too challenging at my age...
NEVER SAY NEVER!
That friend was right... My attitude to myself, to others, has changed alot since then...
Music is surely one of the the best way to communicate, to express feelings (no matter if you aren't Mozart, Beethoven, a "virtuoso" player or Pavarotti...)
And if "music" has been so helpful to me that was possibly because I had a great need of "communicating", partly so well hidden somewhere inside I couldn't see it myself... and just don't think I'm the only one...
I still compose something (no masterpieces!!!) when I feel like doing it...
I go on playing organ at church and teaching my village small choir...
Well, I've never made any money with music... it's always been so rewarding though. And there are so many precious & rewarding things inside and around us that no money can buy...