The Donor gave us a piano. It became a metaphor for my experience here

Donors like to give money to the arts and things, I'm told. I have to trust this information, as I've never been a patron of the arts (in that I can donate things like entire buildings or entire personal collections of works on paper or, oh, let's say pianos) and am not likely to be in my lifetime. What can I say? I'm a maker of things, not a runner of businesses or an inheritor of many generations of goods and monies.

So anyway, some donor out of the goodness of his heart (I assume) gifted MICA with a handful of pianos. They're lovely instruments, well tuned and with a warm, round voice. This was done because many people who make art objects also like to make music in their spare time. In that way, it was a thoughtful gesture that no doubt reflected positively upon the donor.

What we did not get, however, was a place to put the pianos. So they've just gotten....placed. One was placed on our floor, which is the one floor that literally everyone has access to. It wasn't placed behind the doors to our studio so that if people needed to concentrate on their work they could restrict access to the piano. No, it's out there, in the open. And wow, you would not believe the number of people who think they can play the piano (and play the piano and play the piano and play the piano) who cannot play the piano at all.

Have I mentioned that all the walls in this building are super thin? Because they are. There is literally no escaping the dulcet tones of the demon piano.

And thus it becomes the perfect metaphor for my MICA experience overall: people doing things with the best of intentions and to the best of their ability but with limited knowledge of the entire scope of the circumstances who then end up making life way super difficult for everyone on accident.

But it wouldn't be all that bad if maybe folks were a bit more considerate of each other and would stop playing the piano during finals week.