"I don't require you to be able to write well with your non-dominant hand," he returns, with a very quick little smile. "You haven't asked to be taught the trade that would require it--which, indeed, I think you would hate. It's merely a question of becoming accustomed to the use of it, developing the muscles and fine control. Sketch, instead, if you would prefer, or sculpt, or make sand art, for that matter. Chop out chordless songs staccato with the side of your hands. Work towards such chordless duets, and eventually two songs at once."
"You weren't meant to chop those," he notes, amused, looking up from his own potion. "Peel them."