Pep Talk

by RebShang

Sometimes the happy little uke isn’t so swell to play.

Fingers stiffen. Hands cramp. Brain-weary. Laziness creeping…

Every new endeavor eventually dulls. That cloud looming overhead threatens of defeat. Confidence slips in and out of consciousness. They call it “the dip”. I guess I’ve arrived at its mouth.

But perseverance. I will master my craft. One measure at a time. In measured time.

Practice smart. Practice small. Chunks.

Never notes. Always music.

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