I'm just coming off a month-and-a-half writing/playing hiatus. Needed to clear my head of all the same old ideas . . . not to mention my jaw was so messed up from my last dentist visit that I couldn't hold my violin. Feels weird to play again -- it's almost like I had somehow forgotten that I even played the violin. But I guess this downtime has given me a little something to reflect upon regarding my music in general. I have always struggled with what I thought was finding inspiration and confidence when in fact it was coming to terms with the fact that I have a responsibility to do something with the musical ability I've been given. It's a luxury to me to be able to play, but more and more I realize and am told how fortunate I am to be able to do what I do. Not that I've never known this, but foolishly I've given in, more times than I'd like to admit, to the voices in my head from my past and present that have always told me that I'm not "good enough." Whatever that eventually means. Good enough for what? I'm not good enough to play? Good enough to let others hear my music? Or good enough to get a recording contract? F all that, I say. I'm good enough to share what I can. It's that sharing of my expressions that says I am not wasting my talent by posing or trying to be better than everyone else. It's that sharing of my music that says all the things that I find I'm always at a loss for words to say. I mean, I can't even begin to form the thoughts that would make the words describing what I experience every time I get in "the groove." There are no words for the anger, the longing, the bittersweet twinges that happen when I go to that place. And I figure it's the same for lots of people out there, too. I think I'm just one of the lucky ones who has a chance to say SOMETHING, even if it doesn't make sense to everyone. That's just not the point. Anyway, "cut the jibba jabba, foo!" as my grandmother's favorite TV character would say. Back to playing . . .