Practice Room

My teacher used to say, "The ukulele does not distinguish you as a whole musician. Its beachy wood and nylon strings rattle in an unseemly way.

"Instead bring to the familial hearth a breath of fresh elfin molecules held within your central nervous sleep. Keep the lines of the viola clef impartial to the rise and fall of insects that resist the skin. Be mindful of thin nests that empty onto plain land.

"Quiz yourself on why what lies between repeat signs needs to recur. Remind all who listen that replication deserves a worthy root to start. That sin deserves a rest like the rest of us fond to the brim of singing playing plinking percussion peg-ward in the ley lines resembling sonorous bling on a bird."

My teacher preferred harmony in thirds. I am not partial to consonance any more

than Charles Ives. " Play," my teacher said. "Play until your instrument sounds plaid."