Alright, as per request of echo.of.alto, I am here to share with you the story behind my flute and piccolo.
I suppose to get this right, I should start from the beginning. My mom, beautiful singer and talented pianist that she is, wanted my younger sister and I to learn to play a musical instrument. We both started on piano at a very young age. Unlike my sister, however, I did not continue it.
At the tender age of 11, my mother warned me that when I got into Jr. High, she wanted me to join the band. As luck would have it, my neighbor, Karen Hoover, happened to play the flute. Due to a children's musical instrument game my siblings and I would play for fun, I decided that this silver instrument was the one I wanted to cultivate skill in.
The rest is history, I suppose. I started up lessons with Karen, and subsequently quit piano while I was at it. I got into Jr. High and joined the band where my talent in playing the flute grew. I continued with it in high school, though I quit my sophomore year.
My junior year of high school, a good friend of mine suggested that I should learn piccolo. Why she suggested it, I still don't know, but I will forever be eternally grateful to her for the comment. She lent me her piccolo for parade marching the next summer and I fell in love with the instrument. I spent my entire senior year pleading with my parents for one, and luckily enough, got one as a graduation gift.
That's pretty much it. It's a rather simple story, really. But I guess I should mention that I've always loved the mellow, sweet sound that comes from a flute. My passion for high singing (I am a first soprano after all) fed the fire of desire in my ventures with the flute, and eventually led me to the piccolo. I cherish both instruments, though since my flute is rather old, it doesn't sound nearly as good as it once did.
What really makes me laugh now is that I've gone back and am relearning the piano on my own--and it's hard. I'll just have to keep trying!