scales of justice

To hear a 10 year old guitar virtuoso playing Hendrix with ease, without any formal training beyond 2-4 hours a day spent in his room, and sounding so coy yet so focused is wicked. though the underlying test of strength yet to come--for a prodigy acting as if life has battered him down and took his smile already--is the poop storm called puberty. there's no rush to look miserable like many others. but tortured artists sell. the emotional tantrums and hormonal imbalances, symptoms of adolescence with its share of paternity suits and wild nights with daddy's credit. jokes aside, nothing is worse than wasted talent so start early and perfect your craft as the waves reach closer and closer to the sand castle. the clouds are rolling in, little man.