Tuesday, August 4, 2009
After a hard day’s work, I sat down and quickly found three notes I liked. I don’t know their names. Sung with two others in a minor descending progression, I was adrift above stone ruins.
This is the first time I’ve picked up the guitar since well before we moved to my mother’s house. The other day, my son changed the tuning. I thought of changing it back, then I thought, “notes are notes.”
I stood up. Do you know, something wonderful happens when you raise your foot and are about to bring it down. I think it’s called a dance.