SOME CHILDREN | 'Tis no hyperbole: I get to make fun noises with some remarkable music-buddies. And if the task-du-jour is one of my own curation, then to a "man" those buddies would likely betray how I consistently lead us to the very fire's-edge.
It must have something to do with my
OUR CALENDARS | -- poised to make good on their threats -- shall shortly fade 2015 to an echo and wade our world waist-deep in the maturing effects of this El Niño. Does a change in atmosphere ever bring you instantly to a former time and place, much like the unexpected arrival of a familiar scent? Walk outside just now; breathe in. Where were you this time last orbit, early December? Which passions had your pursuit, and who was there by your side?...
MY HANDS | The most immediate connecting-agents to the worlds I perceive. And when they meet with the achromatic semitones, electricity fires into my brain and races through my skin. Sensations and environs so familiar generate a quiet, rooted confidence not unlike linguistic fluency. In a sheer second's time, a new idea forms -- then informs my heart. Pulses respond, incitement ensues and at once doubles, beating blood-rhythms into