Marble hall

songs, come right out of the bricks...

Marble hall

The island lies off the coast of Africa.
A light wind blows.
Beneath your feet, alabaster marble, polished....

I will sleep deeply tonight.

True freedom is what I am after, what moves my soul.

Islands

You fly from a dark land with low sun, over a carpet of clouds; land by another sea, no fjords, but a wide and endless sky; things go slower; you board another jet, ascend above another carpet of clouds; you land on an island, close to Africa. You know how far you've come in one year, how much you've seen, how you've changed, and how strange the world is.

What is it that you need? Perhaps to feel grounded, and it's been so long since that's been so. Being above the clouds, or feeling the bumps in a highway from inside a bus becomes normal. But there's always that longing for home.

I want to learn new things about music.
I want to perform more music with my own ensemble.
I want to see friends whom I have become distant from, because of time, because of place.
I want to rest, and take things quite slowly.

This transient reality has been given to me, and I gladly accept it. It has made me a stronger person, a stronger musician, more able to work with a diverse range of people. It has put me more in touch with my native sense of humor.

I welcome the chance to revisit some of those other aspects of living that have been lying dormant for the past months.