Sounds like an introduction, maybe.

My muscles ache in my lower back, my shoulders and my arms.
I have begun a work out regime which I used to do effortlessly when I was a kid.
I have started playing the violin again. I tried to start up again about seven years ago in Pennsylvania, but my right shoulder gave out on my. I believe to Bursitis. I’m hoping that the temperate climates of California will prevent that from happening.
I spent quite a bit of money getting my violin back up to speed, so the impetus to play is strong. The first couple days have been disconcerting, but I’m feeling a slow return of the old skills. I doubt strongly I’ll ever play as well as I did, but hopefully I’ll have a lot more fun.

Cause it was hell on earth back in the day.

For the moment, it is fun. I feel a certain glee at being able to say no to scales if I desire. I can play what I want when I want as fast or as slow as I want and no one will tell me otherwise.
And I can stop when it ceases to be anything but FUN.

There is still a part of me that wonders why I would go down the violin road again, even as a casual visitor. I’m being goaded by friends who also play and sing classical music. They too have their stories of the hells of childhood playing, though I’m guessing nobody has stories to equal mine. Together, we hope to play and have fun. I also hope that the stimuli will be good for other facets of life.

Namely the writing.

Which continues at an all too sedate pace. The story and characters keep transforming in such ways that the rewrites, become new-writes again and again. At some point soon, it will have to stop.

As soon as this blog is published, I will return to it – the writing, the job.

I’ll leave the butchering of Saint-Saens for tomorrow morning.