I wake up, eat breakfast, and go to the horn. It takes a few minutes to get going, for the body to take the proper shape, but soon, I have molded to it. This is the reward of sticking with it. The reward of diligence.

The metal feels good in my hands at the start and the fingers move the valves with ease. I play and the horn gets lighter. Breathing deeply, following the line, we float up together. What’s critical is staying focused: always bringing yourself back. Learning to do what’s right for the day and letting the sound be your guide.

Soon, I will break the line, and when I do, the metal will grow cold and heavy again. The molecules inside, the valves, my fingers, all become sluggish and lazy. The body rehardens and the sound cracks. So I hold it there as long as I can. For I know that when I walk away, the dust will blow over, and I will have to wait again until the morning when it clears.

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