Reading The Alchemist for the third time in the hope that I can find the answers I'm looking for. Spent the afternoon revisiting Mozart, part stumbling over the keys and part reveling in the fact that I could once play those sonatas. It's nice to have my Saturdays to myself again (Y)
Not going to break the promise of not setting any expectations for myself this year. It is nice floating in this haze not knowing what I'm doing yet feeling calm... Until reality sets in that is.
Maybe maybe maybe
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1 comment:
I know. How your fingers used to once be able to play how you wanted them to, if not perfectly, but at least how the notes come out right.
My thoughts float to the night we sat outside the esplanade listening to fairytales: the true story. and perhaps, now is the time for you to believe in them.
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