From October, 2007.
I write from my soul, from the bottoms of my feet to the thumping valves of my heart. I write only to remind you: everything is going to be okay.
You find your fears holding you back. Your past reigns you in from your future. You must sound a battle cry, and frighten all that terrible away…
I wait, and imagine that I stand by you as you play through this solo. In fields and cemeteries; in the city; on banks and deltas and shorelines, you crescendo. And in each chord, as you row toward the shore, I listen as your name carries to me on the slightest breaths of wind.
If I could, I would carry you myself, crafted to be your ship through your tormenting, subconscious waves. But now is not the time for accompaniment.
Instead, I’ll simply turn the pages of your score, and twirl — on dawn’s deserted shoreline.