Lost Memories.

I've been going over my old blogs, some other loose writings I've kept around the house, and notes I have on receipts and napkins.

Some of my writing is truly laughable and terrible...well...most of it is.

Still, I wish I had written more, and put more of it up here if only for the lone fact that my brain has become a blender and I can remember next-to-nothing of things that have happened.

I have 12 wonderful students right now at The Boston Conservatory at Berklee and it pains me to even allow myself to think that some of them might fall away into the lost sewer systems of my cesspool of a memory, but, well, there you have it. I'm looking through some writing and just noticing fragments of thoughts, shorthanded notes to myself that I can no longer remember what they meant, lost and forgotten loves, jobs, and worries.

Actually, the worries stayed.

My prose hasn't gotten any more concise, or any truer, but I hope I can come back to this form of sharing myself with myself.