I forgot how much I love playing the clarinet! My Buffet is hidden somewhere in this house (and it's not like the house is even messy). So I'm stuck playing on the medium-grade clarinets. Luckily, I'd stored my favorite mouthpiece in my office. Otherwise, Heads Would Roll.

My mouth is still a little soft from not playing for a while. It works, though. I cruised around in my old Rose and Weidemann study books. The fingers still remember. They still remember. I'm amazed anew at what the muscles and brain together can remember.

Why the heck am I playing again? I don't know. But it feels good.

What is my purpose? What are my priorities? Why am I here? Will I ever know?