What And How Much Had I Lost

Eclecticism Is The Word. Like A Jazz Musician Who Creates His Own Style Out Of The Styles Around Him, I Play By Ear.

Life Is As The Sea, Art A Ship In Which Man Conquers Life's Crushing Formlessness, Reducing It To A Course, A Series Of Swells, Tides And Wind Currents Inscribed On A Chart.

In Those Days It Was Either Live With Music Or Die With Noise, And We Chose Rather Desperately To Live.

The World Is Just As Concrete, Ornery, Vile, And Sublimely Wonderful As Before, Only Now I Better Understand My Relation To It And It To Me.

If Only All The Contradictory Voices Shouting In My Head Would Calm Down And Sing A Song In Unison, Whatever It Was I Wouldn't Care As Long As They Sang Without Dissonance.