. . . 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.
How I’ve Missed You
Pristine and Perfect
I see the approach of time and watch with caution the degradation of my body, but can't help but celebrate my ongoing good health.
Relief and Gratitude
. . . my life is ripe and full and luscious . . . Like aging, this opportunity to mature and learn is a gift . . .
Anew Hope
I sit for a moment in the sun, breathing its warmth into the corners of my lungs. It was a good, hard three hours, and I'm ecstatic, filthy and exhausted. It's planting season, and the next six months hold mysteries I haven't even contemplated. But what will come will be managed.
Meg Currell 