Hazel Brindley

Pianist/Entertainer

Some time ago, life was ruled by passion and whimsy. Colors were brighter, sounds of birds singing in the sunshine sweeter, but along the way, presented as a guiding light, came the nagging questions adulthood often brings with it. “What will you do with the rest of your life?” “How will you make money?” “Where are you going to live?” Like a mosquito’s incessant buzzing, they could not be ignored. Like many of us, I exchanged my passion and creativity for a lead role in a cage. I set the sheet music aside, grabbed a hardhat and set off to start my business as Asheville’s premier Handyperson. I turned out to be an exceptional handyperson. I’ve always had a knack for physics and math and can visualize mechanisms three dimensionally in my head. Time marched on, and I found myself leading a crew of six. The work never slowed. 20 hrs. a week and some time at the piano turned into 70 hour weeks, a receding hairline, and frequent panic attacks. Burnout was inevitable, but the metamorphosis that would ensue was anything but foreseeable. One day I just stopped answering the phone. I tied up all my pending projects with a bow and left it behind. After 10 years of living a life built on the principles of practicality, formed by the ideas of others, I finally chose passion over profits. Unfortunately for me, passion paid a lot less than carpentry. As it seemed, I could not put down the hammer just yet. I worked part time as a handyperson and utilized all the carpentry skills I acquired over 10 years to build my new life as a creative. In the beginning, motivation was flowing like river rapids in a hurricane. With all this energy and a general lack of focus or direction, I began collecting pianos. One turned into two, and two turned into… five?!!! Yes, there were five pianos in my house at one point… Not keyboards, real pianos weighing between 400 and 1000 pounds. Two of the five pianos were converted to street performing pianos. I had a baby grand on wheels I would take downtown for special occasions, and of course the mean lean driving piano machine.  After a few more lifting injuries were added to the tally, the Grand Piano was retired.  More often than not, you can find me downtown on the weekends, driving the rolling piano machine and letting my fingers fly across the keyboard.