Words of encouragement are always stated so simply.

I miss the studio. I miss its rules, performances, lessons, and Mr. Bardin.
The clock that chimes "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" at 9:00 PM, the 20 portraits of composers on the wall sketched by his daughter, the triangular oak table that fits into the corner of the room, the needlepoint scripture on the wall, the tiny frame of Mrs. Bardin on the bookcase .

So depressing to be gone.

This is actually my only semblance of "flying the nest" considering I live with mum and dad.