Yes, I mean “New” not “No”. I’ve been playing violin for almost 40 years; these strings are already firmly attached.
While I love being recognized as “that guy who plays violin on YouTube” or “that tech guy who Wreck-it-Ralph’s through problems”, I don’t want to limit myself to these identities. My career is maturing; my kids are watching. Both are getting bored.
So how does mastery in one domain speed up learning in a new one? Can decades of violin discipline accelerate piano, Mandarin, even cooking?
New Game Plus means starting a new quest with skills earned from the last one.
That’s what I’m testing: how existing skills transfer to fresh, new domains — starting with piano.
String: Piano
I started teaching myself piano during COVID lockdown: five years of daily practice, propelled by violin discipline. When my parents gifted us the family grand piano earlier this year, I thought I was ready. My dad bought that Steinway in the ‘70s: the same keys my siblings played Chopin on, the same bench I sat on as a kid, unable to keep up. Turns out, ivory keys require much greater sensitivity and balance than electric ones.
Perfect pitch helps me catch wrong notes in a chord. Practice drills are similar: group by measure, play slowly, adjust. But my hands? My left hand overpowers my right, constantly.
Sightreading is brutal; reading two clefs simultaneously is no joke. Muscle memory exists, but it’s fighting against 40 years of string tension. I have to unlearn violin habits while building new ones. Four decades of mastery — but on piano, no one can tell. The strings are attached, but they’re waging a tug-o-war.
Piano is a natural second quest for me. Mandarin is, too, but for a very different reason.
String: Mandarin
I grew up hearing my parents speak Cantonese with each other, but never with us. I felt left out visiting relatives, got teased at school for not knowing “my own language.” The shame stuck. Four years ago, I decided to finally learn — starting with Mandarin on Duolingo.
I can hear the different tones clearly, the musician advantage. After hundreds of hours of input through podcasts and Netflix, I’m starting to recognize common patterns by ear, like 真巧啊(what a coincidence) and 杀死我了(scared me to death) which have direct English equivalents.
Vocabulary, grammar, accent, 汉字(Chinese characters), each its own mountain to climb. I still can’t pronounce names properly, mix up measure words under pressure, and have thousands of characters left to memorize. I look the part, but when I open my mouth — the illusion vanishes. The strings are attached, but a little goofy: too loose and I slip up on tones, too tight and I stutter.
Having a Chinese heritage motivates me to pursue Mandarin. But how do I speed up the process for a truly new domain?
String: Cooking
When we first got married, I cooked: frozen Chicken Cordon Bleu, spaghetti, sandwiches. Once kids arrived, my wife took over and I gladly stepped back. Sixteen years of her cooking for us. Now I’m realizing: I miss cooking for HER. But I’m starting from almost zero.
Patience transfers directly: boiling water, melting butter, stirring. Musical scales, for meals. Cutting vegetables feels like etudes, my hands getting faster and more precise with repetition. Courage to try new techniques, trusting the recipe book like I would a composer’s score.
Spices scare the living crap out of me: what is a “pinch”? How much is “generous”? Bacon grease burns, knife nicks, sore muscles everywhere… My dishes are edible, but no one’s begging for seconds. The strings are attached but criss-crossed — I’m at Twinkle Twinkle, she’s playing Bach. Tons more practice needed to untangle them.
Cooking for my wife is a worthy struggle, even when I screw things up. Publishing into the void, on the other hand…
String: Writing
I’ve written technical docs for clients, letters to family, journal entries. All have built-in audiences. But this is my first time writing for people I don’t know yet — and possibly never will. I feel exposed, my personal thoughts and systems on full display.
Writing reminds me I’m still in the Void. But that’s where practice happens.
The strings are attached, stretching, preparing for their first chords. Piano taught me that mastery doesn’t transfer cleanly. Mandarin taught me patience with tension. Cooking taught me that ‘edible’ is enough to start. Writing is teaching me to practice in public — again.
What strings are you testing? Share what transfers, then let’s compare notes.