From the Editor; January/February 2012; Scientific American Mind; by Sandra Upson; 1 Page(s)

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I sat at a piano in a sun-filled modern church. The audience—other young pianists and their parents—watched as I played the first eight notes of a piece by composer Edvard Grieg. At the ninth note, I froze. I tried again: da dee dee dee, da-da dee dee. Silence. On the third try, chords tumbled from my fingers, and the piece flowed from there.

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That event at age 14 was scarring, and I soon stopped taking piano lessons. Two years ago, however, I revisited that dormant memory as the band I joined much later prepared for its public debut. Too bad I’m a terrible performer, I thought gloomily.