2011. Space Odyssey.

The year is saying goodbye tonight, and the world looks back in reflection on 2011.  I don't get too nutso over things like this.  I think I've already done a lot of that lately, anyway.  But it's worth noting that 2011 was one of the best and worst years of my entire life.  This was a year of pondering psychological and emotional anthropology.  Of awareness and mystery.  This year tested the limits of my patience and endurance in many ways, and I'm happy to say that I still haven't found their end.

I'm thirty years old, and I'm still discovering things that delight me every day, and I still believe in the goodness of people despite their shortcomings, and mine.  If next year is anything like this year, it's gonna be a rough ride, but if I can come away from it with what I just wrote, I'll be happy as ever.

Peace and love.

And all the other sappy stuff.

Here we go, Day 139: https://ia600801.us.archive.org/3/items/Improv123111/12_31_117_11Pm.mp3

Goodbyes.

The ride from the farm to the airport was a little mixed.  It was a good three hours with just sister talk.  It's been a while since that's happened.

Although I was bummed that I didn't get to see my folks at all this Christmas (except via Skype), the alternative several days at the farm have been pretty amazing, in a very calm and relaxed sort of way.  When I told Ana we only had one sleep left together last night, she said, "Awwww-wwww..." the way little kids do.  And today she looked very sad as I held my arms out for a big hug.  It's hard to leave my sister's family, as it is always hard to leave my parents every time they drive me to the airport.  I am so far removed from that Minnesota life when I'm in New York, it's hard to even put my finger on all the things I'm missing.  But it doesn't really matter if I can't quantify it.  It's my family, and it's hard to be away.

Maybe it was that knowledge that made me all weepy when natural disaster came up, and I told Joy about a letter I had received this past August from one of Lyra's biggest Vermonter supporters about the devastation following the hurricane.  I couldn't even finish the story without stopping to take a big gulp of air.  And then I had to go and tell her the plot to Madame Butterfly.  I just can't get through the end of it without crying.  I'm not even talking music... I'm talking synopsis.  When my roommate long ago read it to me for the first time, I started sobbing like a baby.  Which led to a memory of seeing La Boheme at the Met with both Akiko and my sister.  At the end, when the lights went up, we were all in tears, feeling "nobody look at me!!"

Ah.  Goodbyes.  They're pretty much the hardest thing ever.  Physically I make myself turn around and walk in the opposite direction, because for the most part, it must be done.  But emotionally, I don't know if I've ever said goodbye to anyone and meant it.

Well, maybe once.  More on that... em... never.

Here we go, Day 138: https://ia600804.us.archive.org/8/items/Improv123011/12_30_118_08Pm.mp3

Raw milk.

I derive pleasure from many things, but one of my favorites on the farm is raw milk.  Nothing quite like it.  I'm currently sitting back, relaxing, while the children are asleep, sipping a delicious stove-top hot chocolate with a wonderful base of creamy raw milk.  I love the singed taste that is hinted in the background, begotten from cooking the milk on the stove itself.  None of that microwave business.  It is one of the best hot chocolates I've ever had, if I do say so myself.  Not quite as decadent as my recent Italian hot cocoa from Eataly, but still very tasty indeed.  ;-)  I'm sure part of it is the surrounding experience: my sister, brother-in-law and I, all conglomerating in the living room in front of a toasty fire, enjoying our last evening together, sounds of sawing wood seeping out from the kids' room.

Here we go, Day 137: https://ia600806.us.archive.org/4/items/Improv122911/12_29_118_42Pm.mp3

Castle.

The knight is a jerk.  I wanted to put the whole story on here, but that would've taken a long time with the bandwidth at the farm.  It took two hours, in fact, just to upload one scene.  There was also the king trying to save the queen (oh, and he put the knight in jail, by the way,) and the king getting eaten by the dragon, and the blue townsman saving the queen.  Stick around for the sequel.  Especially if I can get dolls that have moveable eyebrows and mouths.

Here we go, Day 136: https://ia700807.us.archive.org/30/items/Improv122811/12_28_115_22Pm.mp3

Hot toddy.

My nieces and nephew are unbelievably cute.  And hilarious.

Now that they're all asleep, I might skip a long blog entry and play with the toy castle they got for Christmas.  It has a dragon... and a dungeon.

And happy birthday, Dad.  :)  

Here we go, Day 135: https://ia600801.us.archive.org/33/items/Improv122711/12_27_119_52Pm.mp3

Gatsby.

I love antique shops.  I could spend hours and hours in a good one, and lose myself to time.

Today found a few treasures... an art deco (I love art deco) thermostat (yeah, I just wanted it for the cool clock face, but I'll probably end up using it as a bookend, unless I can wire it for batteries), a pretty sweet 1907 windup alarm clock that still works, and the piece de resistance (I wish I knew the shortcuts for accents), a 1931 Victrola portable phonograph player that still works.  I got a few phonographs, as well, lest I have nothing to play on my new toy.  It was $44, and money well spent, if only for the wide-eyed, gape-mouthed expression I must've made when it produced its first crooning tones for us.  SO COOL!  I couldn't have left without it.

And then, just moments later, some random young guy wandered into the store, saw what we were oohing and ahhing over, and began to tell us all kinds of things about the machine.  A remarkable twist of serendipitous fabric, he turned out to know pretty much everything about phonographs... Edison vs. Victrola, steel needles vs. Tungs-tone, 45s vs. 78s, etc, etc.  He went on and on... from the felt being made out of mohair, to the springs inside being about 30 feet long, and covered in graphite.  Anyway,  I now have a personal expert to help me out whenever I have a question about my new, old turntable.

I love the sound of this thing.  Got me some Heifitz, some Bizet, a one-step, a two-step, a couple fox trots, a blues, and a handful of other fun little gems.  Can't wait to give it a good crank, and sit back in my chair with a chilled martini in hand.  I don't really drink martinis, but I'll do it once or twice for effect... pretend that F. Scott Fitzgerald is over for cocktails or something.

And I now have a frame of reference for that sound they put in movies of a record dying, and then being wound back up.  You know that sound I'm talking about?

Here we go, Day 134: https://ia600801.us.archive.org/4/items/Improv122611/12_26_118_05Pm.mp3

Three kings.

It's really fun to watch little kids open presents on Christmas morning.  Exhausting, too, but really fun.

As usual, there's a lot I'd love to write.  Actually, there are a lot of pictures I'd want to post, but the internet connection is on the slow side right now (unbearably so, in fact), so those will have to wait until another time.

But, the sunrise was beautiful (my observance of which was aided by the promise of Santa's visit), the sunset was truly breathtaking, and after dark, we were able to see the glow of Minneapolis against the clouds, even at 160 miles away.  And then, into the night, Orion, his belt, and yonder Sirius, were clear as could be... almost like if we were to make the journey, we would reach that brilliant star.  It twinkled with such intensity, and almost touched the cresting horizon.  I wanted to stare at it for hours, but it was just a bit too cold, and the fireplace was beckoning.

Here we go, Day 133: https://ia700803.us.archive.org/25/items/Improv122511/12_25_117_54Pm.mp3

Stars.

Wow!  Lots that I could write about tonight.

Found out that my brother-in-law would be a philosophy professor if he were to follow his passions.  That, plus a three hour drive to the farm made for some interesting conversation.  The question of existence and how do we trust it, anyone?  Realism vs. materialism.  Descartes.  Shortly thereafter began the DNA discussion, and a lecture he heard about the way that DNA coils, and how that affects what type of cell you'll have.  Super groovy.  And that led to discussion of artificial intelligence vs. consciousness.  Which then circled back to realism and existence, and the line between life and death. Wow.  I'm glad I've got almost an entire week here... I'm totally ready to explode some brains, mine included.

Two Christmas surprises.  First, my sister-in-law, Jodi, woke up at 6am to bake some cookies that I had indirectly requested on facebook, without really expecting anything.  For the record, they were the peanut butter ones with a hershey kiss in the middle.  I love those.  Especially if the chocolate is all melty from being pressed onto the hot cookies.  It wasn't, but I'll take what I can get.  (Melted chocolate is the bees knees.)

Second Christmas surprise: One year ago, my sister brought three little orphaned kittens to my parents because they were too little to be left at the farm without any care.  Joy and Dan were trying to find a home for them because they already had too many farm cats, and these sweet, little ones were not going to do too well there for long.  So my sister and her husband put an ad on craigslist.  And in the morning, they brought the two tabbies over to an elderly woman's house whose cat had just died.  (The woman's family had only been looking for one kitten, and my sneaky sister and brother-in-law brought both for them "to choose," hoping they would take both.  They did.)  That left poor little Tinkerbell all alone, for the first time without brothers and sisters.  My mom, who is on the finicky side, did not want the farm kittens in her house, for a few reasons (including possible parasitic worms and allergy suffering), but we'll leave it at that she's just finicky.  However, the basement, where the kittens had been staying, is super, super cold.  And I felt super, super bad.  Plus I love kittens.  And being a softy who loves kittens, I couldn't let little Tink stay down there all alone, without sibling warmth and cuddles, in a tiny, cold, concrete-floored confinement.  So I let her sleep with me.  (Much to mom's dismay.)  And she curled up in a soft, purring, little ball, and nestled down deep, next to my belly, where she was warm and protected.

Anyway, the Christmas surprise was, after all that story, a one year old, very sweet and affectionate leg rub from Tinkerbell upon arrival.  Cutest and friendliest little thing, she's still all cuddles and purrs.  I wish she could sleep with me here, but she's now a full fledged farm cat: not allowed inside.  My greatest disappointment in humanity is that people don't purr.  It really is so appropriate for many occasions. 

Ah yes, and I can't forget the stars.  New moon means many, many more stars.  Love.

Here we go, Day 132: https://ia700801.us.archive.org/22/items/Improv122411/12_24_1111_52Am.mp3

Oh, and starting today, I finally got smart enough to check the box that says, "Open link in a new window."  So, now you can listen and read at the same time.  Christmas smartedness!!

Leper.

Midday, met with Christmas disappointment.  All I wanted was to be well when I went home, but of course I got sick, and now I'm going to be shipped off to my sister's farm as soon as our holiday dinner is over so that my germs can play tag-team with my nieces and nephew.  S'okay.  I've already had the chicken pox.  But it is a bit of a bummer.  I was really hoping to just sit around watching old westerns and Kurosawa films with Dad while I finished knitting my sweater.  Now I'll be playing pirate with Ana and Toby, while my sweater sits gloomily unfinished in my suitcase.  Can't wait to see what pirate name they assign me, though.  (Ana is Pirate Arrrrr, and Toby is Pirate Ahoy.  Joy is Pirate Ticklesme... or something like that.)  And of course, it will be only the second bit of time I've gotten to spend with baby Claire.  So there's a bonus.

I am a little bit concerned with when I will be able to squeeze in improvs.  Not to fret, though.  I won't give up just because of three little ruffians running around.  Not my style.  I might integrate them into the recordings, though.  The question is... how...?

Here we go, Day 131: https://ia700802.us.archive.org/23/items/Improv122311/12_23_118_36Pm.mp3

Have you ever seen a happier poxed little boy?

Honesty.

I was asked once what my greatest motivator in life was, and my answer was expression.

One day, when I was a young girl about 7 or 8, my dad and sister came home from a walk, strongly shaken up.  My dad was in near hysterics as he told us what had happened on their way.  There was an accident which occurred right in front of them.  Two girls on bikes, inches in front of my sister, had been thrown into the air, and across the street.  I don't remember now what had happened to them.  I'm sure they were severely injured.  My dad was clearly thanking God that my sister hadn't been a step closer to the curb.  Both my dad and sister escaped unscathed, but I was in tears upon hearing their account.  Even recalling the story now, as common as this one might be, I choke up and have little wet puddles on the brims of my eyes.  I said, quietly, to my dad, "We don't tell each other enough that we love each other.  We need to do that."

I don't know why my dad remembers this event so well, but to my bashfulness, he tells it often.  He recalls it with the air of a fable... more for the moral rather than the story.  And I can't help it... every time he brings it up, my heart swells with the fear that I might not get the chance to express my heartfelt love and affection for the people around me before it's too late.

And so I have gone forth into life, with a quietly overwhelming urgency to share whatever I am feeling as soon as I feel it, in an act of spontaneity that feels like I have taken in too much oxygen, and with complete disregard to understanding myself or even caring.  It might be a dangerous game for some, but not for me.  There's no shame in honesty of the heart.  The real peril is in losing our opportunities to express.

So, the music.  Don't know where all this Americana is coming from, but here it is again.

Here we go, Day 130: https://ia600801.us.archive.org/19/items/Improv122211/12_22_119_46Pm.mp3

Solstice.

Forgoing a lengthy blog post tonight in favor of "actual work."

I love tonight.  And just in this very moment, one strong gust blew that tropical night away, and became a chilly winter evening.  The leaves left on the tree outside shook, and glittered gold under the street lamp, with the kind of laugh one makes when whipped with cold.  Funny how weather can turn on a dime like that. 

Here we go, Day 129: https://ia600806.us.archive.org/23/items/Improv122111/12_21_117_59Pm.mp3

Ingredients.

Over dinner tonight, improv inevitably came up as a main topic of conversation.  I explained the dilemma I often have, of chasing down what I believe "should be" on my palette of colors vs. using the colors that come in the box.  Trying to use colors that aren't there, but that I might be able to mix.  It seems obvious what needs to happen here... maybe it just took an abstract metaphor to get me to realize it.

Anyway, the ingredients metaphor also came up: having to make a meal out of whatever is in your fridge.  The proposed ingredients list was: iceburg lettuce, an onion, some leftover beans, and mustard.  If you ask me, those are some pretty bad ingredients to try to make something tasty from, but if you've got to do it, you do it.  And then you eat it.  And you make the best of it.

Now: improvise.

Today, something a little Ivesian/Rzewskian.  Decidedly American.

Here we go, Day 128: https://ia600708.us.archive.org/29/items/Improv122011/12_20_118_51Pm.mp3

Superpro.

Aghhhh!  I'm procrastinating!!  Instead of writing my blog post, I'm screwing around on facebook.  Curses!

Here we go, Day 127: https://ia600804.us.archive.org/11/items/Improv121911/12_19_118_46Pm.mp3

Chronos.

When I started this blog, I knew there would probably come a day when the writing started to fall away, and the time I spent philosophizing on here would diminish.  That time has come, friends.  I started to notice it a couple of weeks ago.  It's a busy time of year.  I want to write more.  I'm certainly thinking about a lot of things.  Lately I've felt there just aren't enough hours in the day to do all of what I'm supposed to do (of which I've hardly done any).  I propose the 26-hour day.  That would really help me out with my messed up circadian rhythm, which I'm convinced is on a cycle way longer than 24 hours.  Woe is me.

I promise, though, that as soon as I find the odd hour, I will write furiously every notion I've got in my skull.

Here we go, Day 126: https://ia600804.us.archive.org/10/items/Improv121811/12_18_118_52Pm.mp3

Wassailing.

In typical naysaying fashion, Erich refused to accept that "wassailing" is actually pronounced "wah-sul-ing."  I don't know the phonetic alphabet.  You'll have to use your imagination.

Despite an automatic cringe that I have developed over the years from hearing badly arranged Christmas carols played haphazardly in October at every shop in NYC (think: midi-accompanied pan flute rendition of 'Do You Hear What I Hear?' at Chinese-run Japanese restaurant), I do think it's fun to sing them with a bunch of other drunk people.  Call it a guilty pleasure.  'O Holy Night' is the best one.

Here we go, Day 125: https://ia600809.us.archive.org/4/items/Improv121711/12_17_114_24Pm.mp3

L train.

I don't think I was the only one that got screwed by the L train tonight.  I waited while we were stalled in the station for a good 35 minutes or more.  When they started letting people out, the guy next to me said, "Good luck getting home..."  I didn't know if that was sarcastic or friendly.  Hard to tell with hipsters. 

In some weird way, though, I didn't really mind the wait, the exile off the train, the quarantine to Manhattan.  I was strangely hoping for a long walk tonight.  And I didn't make it to my friend's show, didn't get to hang with my posse, and was forced to walk the length of 14th St....  That was sublime.  It's probably the first time, and most likely the last time, that I will have referred to 14th St. as sublime, but at the moment, I couldn't have asked for more.

Well... there were a few things missing, but... I try to count my blessings.

Here we go, Day 124: https://ia600805.us.archive.org/7/items/Improv121611/12_16_119_17Pm.mp3

Where we are. Now.

Nick came into town today after ten months of world traveling, and it was the first time in a long time, over a year, since the main members of my original NY family got together for a beer.  (Though we were still missing a few beloved tonight....)

Conversation was the same brilliant banter that can only occur between friends that have seen the best and worst of each other.  Marc told one of the best jokes I've ever heard.  We were all tired: Jaimie was sick but managed to throw back a few -- transparent, cool, damp snot rag in hand; Nick fresh off a plane from Rio via Panama; the rest of us straight from long days at work.  But the hang was comfortable and loving.  It's amazing the bonds that develop between people that are biologically unrelated.  I could do absolutely anything or nothing in the presence of these people, and they would love me all the same.  What did I do to be so lucky?

Nick asks, "So, what's new?"

It's been a year, right?  So obviously a lot has changed, but of course the answer was, "Not much, really.  Everything, but nothing."  And it's true.  On the surface, things are more or less the same, but below that, on many levels, life is completely different from one year ago.  I reflect on that deeply and scrutinizingly.  It really blows my mind.  2011, a year of incredible change, has brought everything, from darkest dark to highest high.  A lot of adventure, exploration, philosophy, danger, excitement, introversion, extroversion, capture and release, light dabblings, full immersions, rejection, disappointment, heartache, heartfill, forced patience, understanding, acceptance, strength, solitude, perseverance, wonder, clarity and confusion.  And let's not forget curiosity.

Always curiosity. 

Here we go, Day 123: https://ia700807.us.archive.org/17/items/Improv121511/12_15_118_12Pm.mp3

Vague.

It's kind of hard to come up with something to say when my senses are overloaded with Bartok.  I have to pick some cello rep to accompany this coming summer, and I think I've found one I like. :)

Word of the day: vagueness.

Here we go, Day 122: https://ia600708.us.archive.org/27/items/Improv121411/12_14_118_59Pm.mp3

Besame mucho.

Where DO we go when? 

It's good to feel like I'm making deliberate decisions. 

You know Dickens?  The best of times, the worst of times?? Yup.  That pretty much sums it up.  I feel privy to a perspective that is generally fleeting... I'm seeing in on the present.  Not quite like hindsight, but more like an out of body experience.  And with this sense of balance, order, entropy and chaos.  No, it's not all perfect.  But I see all of the little offshoots... the ones that could carry me into different worlds, and the eddies that linger before swirling away into the undercurrent.  It's quite an experience... the most interesting part of it, seeing where I'm in control, and where I'm not.

Here we go, Day 121: https://ia600807.us.archive.org/6/items/Improv121311/12_13_117_42Pm.mp3

Le gibet.

And in the city that never sleeps, I find myself in a cloud of excitement, exhaustion, stimulation, and thirst.  And in the last week or two, tenfold.

Second attempt at diligent website redesign.

Here we go, Day 120: https://ia600801.us.archive.org/4/items/Improv121211/12_12_118_03Pm.mp3

No thanks, past self.

I honestly thought I would be thanking my past self for doing my blog post early on in the evening, but alas, it just ended up being premature.

I was lucky enough to be persuaded into an improv with two awesome musicians, who egged me on to play with them.  I won't lie.  I was super, super nervous about it.  But after a drink or two, I was able to do it, and whether I let go or not will be for you all to decide.  It was really fun, and very good for me, and I'm super glad to have done it.  Thanks, guys.  It means a lot.

And now, I present my first actual improv with other people.

Here we go, Day 119, Part 2: https://ia600804.us.archive.org/22/items/Improv2121111/12_11_1110_12Pm.mp3

Thanks, past self.

Today is one of those days when present self is doing something nice for future self.  Because I know I'm not gonna want to do this when I get home later.

Here we go, Day 119: https://ia600804.us.archive.org/19/items/Improv121111/12_11_116_22Pm.mp3

Brew.

I feel a little bit bad that I haven't been writing so much lately.  But I assure you that my thoughts, about life and music and such, are still strongly brewing.  To a respectably meaty 12% or something.  After the fermentation process, we'll all enjoy a hearty toast.  And thoughts will abound on cyber paper, amidst a creamy, lathery, sweet head atop a deliciously effervescent beverage.

Here we go, Day 118: https://ia700708.us.archive.org/28/items/Improv121011/12_10_117_01Pm.mp3

Moon.

When what I wish is to see the lunar eclipse, but then I find myself on the wrong coast... than what?

Here we go, Day 117: https://ia600802.us.archive.org/28/items/Improv12911/12_9_118_06Pm.mp3

Good.

And it was...

Here we go, Day 116: https://ia600804.us.archive.org/13/items/Improv12811/12_8_118_17Pm.mp3

Passage.

With miles to go before I sleep, (of website updating, that is,) I think it best not to use up all of my creative energy on tonight's blog entry.

I will throw in there that today brought more life experience, and with it, anxiety that was probably unwarranted.  We are silly creatures, blessed and cursed with our ability to love and create.

Here we go, Day 115: https://ia600805.us.archive.org/31/items/Improv12711/12_7_118_21Pm.mp3

Never know.

I've probably written something about this before, but... what a difference a day makes.

The things I didn't know yesterday are the things that hit heavily today.  Or at least they were unexpected.  It's interesting to look into the future, and guess at what lies in wait.  Fortunately, a lot of the best things are complete surprises.  Then again, so are some of the worst things.  But even when those worst things catch us off guard, we can remember that this reality is only here.  And rest assured, there is a there.

It's a good reason to plan loosely, and live spontaneously, wouldn't you say?

Here we go, Day 114: https://ia600805.us.archive.org/12/items/Improv12611/12_6_118_23Pm.mp3

Nude.

The instrumentalist in me said, "Are you serious?  Don't."  But the experimenter in me said, "Do it, do it, do it!!"

So, with much momentary trepidation, and the power of spontaneous improv to back me up, I did it.

Now, this ain't rocket science, seems like no big deal, probably nothing at all to anyone else.  But it still freaked me out.  With a bit of patience, you'll know what I'm talking about. 

Man, I don't even know if I can publish this online.  I know this is silly, but it makes me feel a little naked.


Here we go, Day 113: https://ia600801.us.archive.org/22/items/Improv12511/12_5_113_02Pm.mp3

Some things.

It must be a sure sign of winter that I baked banana bread today.  Often I don't spare the time for it, but I needed to use up the abundance of black alien pods in my freezer, that usually provoke looks of concerned alarm from friends who just wanted some ice cream.

Baking = winter.  I'm a girlie-girl after all.

Here we go, Day 112: https://ia600809.us.archive.org/27/items/Improv12411/12_4_115_49Pm.mp3

Experiments.

Ever since I was a little kid, I have seen lines and shapes in nature and day to day objects, and imagined them as pictures of faces, bodies, and animals.  I specifically remember daydreaming in the shower, looking at the marbelized tiles, and seeing the same things in them each time, like old, familiar paintings.  Sometimes they would freak me out, because the face was something scary and distorted, and I had to purposefully avert my eyes from that spot, because the image was so vivid.

I like noticing hidden messages.  It makes me feel like I know something special that other people don't.

And I'm getting more and more comfortable with piano's hidden message.  I was complaining the other day (as I often do,) that I can't crescendo on a single note on a piano.  But today, I was sort of feeling like I could actually do that inside of the piano.  And lots of other cool stuff, too!  There's not really a whole lot of technique developed for this kind of piano playing, but as I explore it, I'm discovering an entirely new range of the instrument's capabilities.  More experimentation to ensue!!!

Here we go, Day 111: https://ia600801.us.archive.org/25/items/Improv12311/12_3_119_04Pm.mp3

Survival.

I'm not sure how I manage the whole late night activity.

And then, somehow, it is.

Here we go, Day 110: https://ia700807.us.archive.org/8/items/Improv12211/12_2_118_43Pm.mp3

Eat cake.

Well, so, I went after something a little different today, in response to what Jesse wrote about yesterday.  I wanted to try it out.  But I couldn't let go, so completely, of form.  I also didn't do exactly what I thought Jesse was suggesting... from talking with him, and hearing what he has to say, I gather that he means to let the brainwaves go, and allow the physical memory/training to kick in.  That the subconscious will come through regardless, and hence prove a purer honesty.  (Jesse, if I'm off the mark, feel free to chime in and correct me.)  Look back to the "Dreams." post, and you'll see that I actually believe this in some sense, as well. 

Here's the difference, though, for why that wouldn't work the same way for Jesse and for me.  Jesse is primarily a jazz musician.  He has gone through extensive training in improvisation.  I have not.  Not ever.  This is a point that I discussed tonight with McIntyre, who knows.  It is true that I have a quarry of classical language that I can fall back onto, but it is a very different skill set.  It is so very difficult to adapt to this alternate way of creating music, and I think that the expectations set by my educational background has skewed my goals.

But anyway, success for this project, as it is judged solely on the process and what I learn, has already been achieved.  The rest is noise.

Here we go, Day 109: https://ia600805.us.archive.org/21/items/Improv12111/12_1_113_14Pm.mp3

(Oooh, I could've made a great reference to Beethoven Opus 109.  Darn!!  Missed opportunity.)