Awake: the state of being, a journey towards becoming, or the instruction to be: conscious and aware.
I consider the piano as an expression of my thoughts and feelings of my time between the sheets of sleep, and the orchestra, the elements of my dream and spirit world.
I touch the spike of sound lay bare, where note and silence mingle clear, the beat of heart, my start and end, awake the journey whole and near.
After many weeks of making you are the first to experience a new piece of music, poetry and art before its public sharing. A year passes. I return with a large framed print of the image. The day you first viewed the art has been forgotten, not through lack of care, but because of the difference of its significance to you and I.
The memory of art is set in mind dependent on our love: of beauty, place, and person.
On night with school of art ablaze, with shallow breath and turn of palm you call our names: stay. You rest, then once again you say with whispered quiet strength: stay.
Soon, with dreams and hope of youth long past, the fire hushed, you breathe the shallow breath.
Time is nothing but a moment spent alone or with. Do not leave my reach, my hold of hand, my touch.
With shadow breath, with mourning sound of blackbird song, you close your eyes: stay.