I discovered what happens
when you feed me tequila
and I play.
Odd mathematical formulae leak from my fingers,
onto the strings,
and soak the air around me
in quadratic sound.
A system of linear equations
solved never for the optimum
but only for its own sense
of internal consistency.
(Yes – I know linear equations are not quadratic.
But this is music, after all, and… tequila.)
Subtle calculations of high precision,
lost in the conversion from binary
Each motion of the fingers
is a function of all prior motions;
a differential calculation
as time approaches zero
and sound approaches infinity.
Los Angeles, May 30, 2013
there are times when
your coded language and
cease to have meaning
and I am left to wonder
what it is you wish to tell me
but your language is beautiful
and I could listen to it
Los Angeles, May 28, 2013
There are not enough strange people in the world.
Then again, I suppose if everybody were strange, then strange would be normal, and normalcy would be strange.
But until then, be strange with me, okay?
It was harmony, not unison.
Then, slightly out of tune, our notes became discord.
Widening still, the frequencies became complementary
And, as such are wont to do, phases canceled,
And there was nothing to be heard.
Perhaps someday, as our notes change
We will attain that marvelous state of musical perfection.
I would like to hear that.
Los Angeles, May 25, 2013