Old memory

"Sing through your instrument!", says the teacher, as he hummed the notes to me again, while pretending to draw a bow stroke across an invisible violin. (As if this helped me make any sense of his abstract instructions)

If there's anything my poor memory could give me about my old music teacher, it was how he had always taught me to focus on playing the music more than the instrument itself.

Why I'm suddenly remembering him? I guess you learn to appreciate your elders more when they're no longer there to guide you...