I haven’t done this in a while. (Sorry, Kevin.) Been having some difficulty making … bleh. Making it flow. Out across the keyboard, as it were.

Pointing this out may be against the

I can’t use words anymore. They’re in there, or were.

Pointing this out may be against the colorparadigmhueidealight that I’m trying to put this in. I try very, very hard to give you the things that I make while trying to keep away any trace of self-promotion or vanity or narcissism or anything. I don’t want you to think that I’m like that. But I’m giving you this in earnest. I want to see your clean and uncolored reaction, like you’re a stranger with no reason to love or disregard other than what I’m holding out for you.

The point of this, of sitting down and spreading my hands across white and black keys, is to let

The point of this is to capture the sound that my .. pneuma makes when it hits the keys. I can’t communicate what I have, but I can throw it against something and capture what follows. That’s sort of what this is. A reaction, equal and opposite. It’s unedited, one take, and wholly against what I spend every other waking hour doing.

I figure that needs to happen once in a while.

stepping up, blurry eyed