The totality of life experiences threw a rave, and I was invited to watch.
I didn't grow up eating beans. Well, canned green beans were presented on a plate, overcooked and gray. Unseasoned lima beans, pasty in color and consistency, were thrust upon us every couple of weeks. Canned peas, which I could barely tolerate. But not garbanzo beans, or black eyed peas, or black beans, small red kidney... Continue Reading →
Turn to each other again and again.
. . . my practice connects me to the visceral nature of playing an instrument, the raw thrumming vibration that courses through your body when you put your hands on the keys.