Good lord I miss art! Words, music, and space.

I do remember why I left the stage. I found a deeper passion in the silent darkness of the soundroom then I did in the estatic flare of the parcans and fresnels. But sometimes, it's not enough to have your expression carried through another and I sometimes feel like the notes were snatched from my mouth just as they were budding on my tongue.

All this stupid stress, and all I want to do is create flowers with my hands, and paint them with my lips.

... and, thanks for this photo.