Thursday, April 16, 2009


I can never decide what I want to hear when I first wake up, so--naturally--I set it to shuffle. Unfortunately, from time to time, something comes on that is too good for shuffle. These are almost upsetting events, in a way, because whatever follows will necessarily be a let-down, a mood-killer, and trite. Excuse the end-of-Being-There close-up of still water:

I wish there were a way to capture G.G.'s sense of rubato (it is there) and touch, and just have that sense of time to draw on whenever I want it--which is to say, always.

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