Music...How can I explain it? How could I possibly elucidate the myriad emotions, their complexity and variety… the amplitude of anxiety within each manipulation of the delicate implement… the depth to which the resonances can pierce? The very act conjures in my mind creation, the genesis.I take hold of a thing, a physical object, and with the smallest muscles in my body I use it. My slightest twitches, the depth of my breath, the inner ratios of my mind exposed and made bare.While it is true that my actions may be governed by symbols on paper, they only contain meaning, a secondary reality to which I am responding. This is me, relating, expressing what these notes conjure. This is my attitude, my emotion, my very being extrapolated and unpacked. Though this moment will not persist, for a time my shallow subsistence becomes greater, and I, alone, will change the fabric of existence by more than just my simple presence.This is why I write.
