I've been a saxophonist since i was eight, privately taught both here and in Europe. My teachers groomed me to be the best, to win, and always told me it was never perfect enough.
My father was my greatest supporter, he would hear the teachers, shake his head, and then tell me "Fred, if you can make it sing with happiness, sadness, and your soul comes out for all to see, then you truly are a musician." I'd look up at him and smile, and always said "I will Papa, I will."
Years later my father died, the day we buried him was the day I lost my soul.
It is now ten year later that I've picked up my saxophones once again - not for the intention of being the best and competing... but purely living my father's thoughts. My saxophone provides me life, direction, and most importantly a chance to let my soul out once more.
I have hidden my potential within the fear of "grief." And now that something that was missing is now found.
