Saturday, December 5, 2009

Umps.

Feeling the slump, the lump in my throat.

Oh won't it be nice when my childhood piano is in the next room and I can teach myself new songs by Mozart and Bach and Debussy. They speak my language, appeal to my need to create. Sound waves, quick fingers, memorization, relaxed shoulders, dynamics, and tempo.

This bump in the road can only be temporary.

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