Small, smaller, smallest.

Encounters is on in Cape Town and this weekend I went to watch two films: Bustin’ Down the Door and Note by Note.

The first told the story of a group of young South African and Ozzie surfers that turned the 1970’s surf culture in Hawaii upside-down. They didn’t just open the door to professional surfing; they (as the title suggests) went in kicking and screaming. And for those of you who have watched Riding Giants, you’ll know that the waves that thrash Hawaii’s North Shore are demons – we’re not talking foamies at Muzies here, groms!

The second followed the making of a Steinway Concert Grand. 100% handcrafted and aurally tuned make Steinways one of the best pianos in the world (the other one is Bösendorfer). And the teams of people that produce these magical beasts

We followed the creation of this 9-foot beauty; as the wood was molded into that quintessential concert piano shape until finally it was delivered to Steinway & Sons, ready to be auditioned and hopefully bought. Those that came before them have trained the craftsmen and women that are there today. They are salt-of-the-earth people, dedicated and passionate; juxtaposed with the exceptional artists that buy the pianos in the end.

I was consumed by the fire, guts, drive, fearlessness of the surfers, the confidence, steady hands, and love that radiated from the piano makers and the sheer skill and artistry of the pianists – their dexterous fingers almost a blur on the screen. And I was humbled.

But inspiration can be such a double-edged sword. As much as I wanted to pack my board and race off to Muizenberg, AND hire a crane to get my piano into my flat, I also ended up feeling remarkably average. I’ve not done anything great or noteworthy. I’ve dabbled in all sorts of things, but I’ve not mastered a single one. And basking in the glory of people that have made their mark somehow renders me inert.

And then, there’s a silver lining. At the very least, I can stand on a surfboard and ride a small wave. I can sit at a piano and tinkle out a few tunes. And I get to write for a living. And maybe it’s good just being me! Without giant expectations and a need to perform. And that feels good – and not so small after all!