This morning I practiced. It was my first time in more than…16 years or something like that. I’m amazed at what I remember. I played some Weissenborn and my favorite scale. I did remember that scale.
I puzzled over a fingering chart I found on the internet.
I need more scales to play because I don’t remember them. And I wish to apologize to my neighbors, but I don’t know if I will.
The smell of cork grease, the sound of spit in the bocal, the feeling of doing something different and meaningful and good with my body. The sound of making sound.