Case 18: Talk Etudes

I usually do not start a conversation and I really want to be the one that would end it. But in your case, I always find myself breaking these self-imposed rules. Just like with my violin, I have to initiate so that I can hear a sound.
Talking to you for the first time was quite painful. I never liked the awkwardness and the stupidity of it. But, as time went by, my fingers formed calluses and my neck adapted to the contours.
The first few notes are horrible, and I simply laugh at them with frustration. Jokes are great icebreakers, but I cannot play "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" forever. With a lot of practice I was able to play real music.
But practice should be continuous, because the skill easily fades out. Finding time was hard, finding courage, the harder. Every time I start again, I needed to warm-up first to the simplest etudes before I can play Vivaldis.
Despite all the hassle, I am still much into it. I embrace every complexity, the staccatos, pizzicatos, and harmonics. Amidst the nervousness, I am excited for the next lesson, the next piece, and the next conversation.
Split.
I guess I can compare anything to anything. On separate occasions I compared Jesus to a housefly, my family to the solar system, and myself to dental floss.