Several of my friends died in the past year. It's like I didn't figure until they left, what incredible stories they wrote with their days. Sometimes when it seems you fuck up it's part of the divine plan and it make sense in the end. Does it make a good story? I'm into making good stories, now, and not worrying about incorrect punctuation.
people who wonder too
I don't listen to enough. But silence is underrated. Hopefully soon I'll upload some of my music wanderings and you can hear what I sound like. But I like people with distinct voices, and it doesn't matter what genre . . .Also I love getting together with other inspired musicians and finding that ground between us, and drawing closer. It can be so damn intimate. And doing an improvisation is like wrapping yourself around each other, doing some kind of dance on a sonic level. I've fallen in love with someone through the sound of his horn, and then I learned that's not what he may be 24/7, but it's the soul he's channeling. It's a beautiful but sad realization.So it's like there's an alter ego that performs, and then a dozen other selves that do other things like sit in a corner and knit. But the one that performs likes a range from softmoistbreath to gritty rough. And she LIKES it ALL.
Catch me in a clip from "speakeasy": http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3085601890860852559& amp;pr=goog-sl
Just Say No.