The Trombone Is Too Sacred For Frequent

Such A Divine Profession Is Art! When Everything Else Looks So Stale And Disgustingly Vacuous, So Enthralls Even The Littlest Real Effort Of Art Our Innermost And Carries Us From Town, From Country, From Earth, As That It Must Be Truely A Blessing Of The Gods.

People Usually Complain That Music Is So Ambiguous, And What They Are Supposed To Think When They Hear It Is So Unclear, While Words Are Understood By Everyone. But For Me It Is Exactly The Opposite...what The Music I Love Expresses To Me Are Thoughts Not To Indefinite For Words, But Rather Too Definite.

I Know Perfectly Well That No Musician Can Make His Thoughts Or His Talents Different To What Heaven Has Made Them; But I Also Know That If Heaven Had Given Him Good Ones, He Must Also Be Able To Develop Them Properly.

No One Can Bar Me From Joyfully Proceeding On What The Great Masters Have Left Us; After All, To Rediscover Everything Again, Should Be Understood To Be Unfounded. But One Should However Proceed On Merit, And Not Simply Repeat Wat Was. All Genius, Sincere, Deserves His Place, Even Though Maybe Later In Life.

These, Too, Seem To Me So Ambiguous, So Vague, So Easily Misunderstood In Comparison To Genuine Music, Which Fills The Soul With A Thousand Things Better Than Words.