Ineloquent

I sat down this evening and played for awhile. Just half an hour. Mostly exercises that highlighted how out of practice I am, and how long it's been since I really played. M's away and there's no one to wince at all the missed keys or to tell me to play quietly or to say in that ever-hopeful voice "It sounds good," when we all know it sounds like I'm out of practice and can't remember where the keys are.

The piano's been here for a few months, but I've been avoiding it. I struggled to wrap my mind around the once-familiar movements. It's somewhat disheartening. It feels like being tongue-tied. I am inarticulate and stammering. Ineloquent.

Of course there's always practice and the hope that it will all come rushing back... which is what I'll focus on for now. But it was a bittersweet evening, on top of an already heavy day. Head down, keep moving. The weekend should be better -- if I'm in town to see it.*

*More on this later, when my boss makes up his mind.