The skipping pulse has calmed; the escape slows as we speak.
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The music in a fever dream, skip-stumbling pulse, breath searing so sharp it feels nearly soft.
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I love capturing the essence of a person in that moment.
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I remember allegro the way I remember adagio, in my bones.
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I am not a person who gets angry often.
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Today I sat at the piano and played Chopin and felt vaguely as if I were about to cry.
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The skipping pulse & the desperate escape are happening now.
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Much of the time, lyrics find me and stay with me until I put them to music.
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My favorite songs are the ones that say something that everyone’s been thinking but nobody’s said out loud.
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