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.