Metamorphosism

The drums... they've stopped.

The cello lesson wasn't what you'd call a rousing success, but it went well just now. I walked out of the "classroom" (previously a monk's cell, I believe, in another incarnation back when the building was a monastery centuries ago, or maybe a warehouse) shoulders back, head held high. So what if the "A" string squeaks? It turns out to be a squeaky A-string: it's not my fault.

Actually, it all went suspiciously well. I don't want to jinx it, but... there was this transition between three different positions that had been giving me trouble. I relaxed and the trouble went away.

That's been my problem all my life, not enough relaxation between positions.