Last night I closed my eyes and asked for answers to come to me in dreams. And what came had no stage, no scene, no cast of characters. The dream was just music, sweet and pained, Bill Evans.There’s a lingering in each moment before he touches a key, a lingering that is both heavy and light, deliberate and accidental, all existing at the same time.
Last night I closed my eyes and asked for answers to come to me in dreams, and the music cradled me in the kind of suspended moment reserved for fathers who watch their children sleep.
Last night I asked for answers and if they came, the answers were clear: Everything is real and unreal, it’s moving but remains still, it’s heavy and light, deliberate and accidental, and it's all existing at the same time.
