i see a hurt little boy. he is sitting at his piano, alone, with his music, his moods and his confusions. his life is stalked by the fantasies of his mother, the failures of his father, and his own desperate desire to be accepted, and understood.

the piano is out of tune, but it looks good with all the other nouveau riche antiques. the piano would never be in tune, but it looked good for a 'child prodigy' and matched his carefully preened and pampered personality. temper and mental. the piano.... it sang it off key tunes crying out to be musical, but, like the boy, it was all about appearances... and let's face it, no one was listening to the outpouring of emotions, bleeding through every misshapen note, no one heard the soul cry, for the spruiking of the mother, and the silence of the father drowned out the melodies, until the little boy wasn't seen at all, just the piano, and the antiques, the private school, the carefully laid table, silver, crystal and correctness.

Anyway, it was time for little Mozart to be the host, serve the drinks, pass the plate, "would you like some of mummy's pride Mrs Brown?" and to be entertainer for those who were summoned to applaud and approve.. .. the mother.

poor sad mother, sad depressed mother sad depressed mother trying to hard to impress. obsessed mother, well dressed mother. no father, missing in action, somewhere on the south side of the house up to his armpits in avoidance, turning mother's carefully marinated steaks, feeding the fire with silence.

a little boy, just a little boy. how on earth did mummy and daddy have time for his sister. I wonder where she is hiding? but, everyone is blinded by the glare of the spotlight as, blinking like a rabbit in the middle of a dark country road, the little boy is caught trying to be a son. they wouldn't see her anyway. no wonder she wasn't at her dying father's bed. where was he when his children were crying? strange isn't it? He was in charge of searchlights during the war. he spent so much time changing lightglobes in the dark where no one would notice his absence untill long after he was gone.