Richard tells the FLIC story.

My name is Richard Twyford, a flute enthusiast, and passionate amateur flute player… and an otherwise busy maker of useful things.
Preferably out of wood.
I live in the countryside outside of Johannesburg , South Africa.

I got my first flute 35 years ago on a whim, after watching the Mozart G major one night in London. It was a very old and very cheap Artley I found in the classifieds – in hind-sight, perfectly good for its purpose.

I was anyway a delusional Jethro Tull ‘nut’ who thought a flute was like an easy-to-play overgrown ’ penny-whistle’ kind of thing.

I found a teacher but refused to take her strict advice about caring for my flute. I wouldn’t clean it, inside or out, or pack it away. I confess that I treated the poor instrument abominably.

The poor flute stayed out 24 hours a day on the kitchen shelf next to the stove in my small bachelor apartment.

I played it all the time. I played it over evening beer and I played it over sugary morning coffee and whenever I walked passed it. I played it while the bacon sizzled in the pan, putting it down on a cold plate only to flip the eggs, and occasionally even wiped it down with a dish cloth.

Frustrated by persistently sticky pads and mechanism, not to mention tarnish. I blamed the flute for it’s inferior quality and eventually gave the thing away in disgust.

But at least I played it !