As regular readers of Eclecticism will know, I am in the process of learning to play the saxophone. One of several YouTube channels I subscribe to in this regard is Jay Metcalf's Better Sax. A few days ago he said, in a video, that the most difficult thing for a saxophone learner to do is open the case and pick up the instrument every day. At first I thought, "Eh?", but when I thought about it, I realised that he’s right. I find it hard sometimes. The reason, leaving aside the fact that for a few weeks I was coughing a lot of the time, is, I think, to do with confidence. As I said to the tutor of the course I'm doing, there's a big gap between how I should like to sound, how I imagine myself sounding, and how I do sound. Not picking up the sax is a great way of avoiding confronting that fact, and the concomitant fact that, to close that gap, I need to practise, practise, practise, deal with the disappointment that arises from, sometimes, sounding like a cat having a fight, listen, listen, listen, and so on.

And then I thought, it's the same in writing, and isn't it amazing that we who write will face a blank sheet of paper every day for week, or whatever) and then, with a bit of luck, produce something a little while later. If you think about it, that takes an astonishing amount of bravery, because you might have to confront the fact that what you've written isn't as good as you hoped it would be (in your opinion). And then to publish it, so that other people can read it, warts and all. There are many people who assure us that "one of these days" I shall write something -- but we actually do so. I think we all deserve a huge pat on the back!