We are happiest when we are playing music, when we are making it, when we are straddling music like a motorcycle.
We are not young and these days time is not abundant. No time for straddling. We absorb it like a ravenous prisoner, crumbs of music attacked. We are malnourished without it.
As always, by we I mean I.
From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield,
DP