A muso bouche

So I did this thing yesterday, I had a tune in my head, just ten notes or so, and for the first time in my life, I automatically went to my piano to try to work out what they were. Now, I failed, and now, I have not one thin clue how I thought I could do this since at present “Chopsticks” is beyond my grasp, but I tried. And most significantly to me, I went to the piano as automatically as I might to a keyboard to write on. I concluded, briefly, that I am now a musician. I concluded, even more briefly, that I am a muso. But clearly only a small one, so therefore a-muso-bouche. Now, I thought of that phrase and I unquestionably hope to make you smile with it, but if it worked then I see that as a good line. If the gag didn’t amuse you, then I see it as a line I might work on. I promise you that I do not see it either way as being part of me, as your reaction being praise or criticism of me. The writing is the thing, the work is the thing, it isn’t me. Yet two different people this week…