LOST: A Voice Which Was Mine And Yet Not

I left this beautiful instrument of music and noise on the 'F' train in Brooklyn; I left my axe sitting in its borrowed soft-case underneath one of the seats when I left the train at York St in DUMBO, where I work.


Inside the bag, located in the small front pocket, were these mouthpieces


and this bottle of BiNaK Pro (yes, the name is consists of the chemical make-up of the lube).

*sigh*

I didn't go to RMO practice since I am now severly lacking in the horn department and now my participation in the band is on hold, indefinitely. I had alread missed a couple of weeks due to other mitigating factors.


my view

The thought occurs to me that maybe I'm just not into the band, anymore. I certainly left rmo out of the picture for the day and I have practice every tuesday (The same day, I also walked out of the house without my horn, even though I just wrote down on my list "Take trumpet to RMO practice" and had to return and retrieve it).


your view

There are easier ways of telling myself I'm ready to move on or do something differently (rather than losing an $800 trumpet). Or even just recognizing when something gets stale in stagnation and needs reguvinating in order to continue to be worth doing.