My grandmother introduced the piano to me through AM radio. She didn’t know piano, but she knew piano.
Read MoreHow many times can you choose the thing that hurts before you can’t call it an accident anymore.
Read MoreThank you for teaching us the grace of sandpaper, the razor-kiss of wreckage, staccato-sharp skeleton strung up to a 4/4 time signature.
Read MoreThe songs our team has been spinning as we work to curate your—& our own—burning & cracking & aching into something beautiful for you.
Read MoreIs the sforzando the registration or the dread?
Read MoreWe said to the universe: Please drive faster. Said: Wait up, disaster! Maybe we have an inkling of what we’re summoning even as draw the circle on the floor.
Read MoreThis issue is not a crescendo but a car crash, perfect as death, sudden as becoming. It eats its ghosts alive, mouth raw & open. It refuses to blink.
Read MoreIt’s a strange thing, to have a relationship with an instrument as complex and fraught as mine is with the harmonium.
Read MoreWhat a space we made for ourselves last night—& when I say space I hope you hear salvation. You’re the best love we know, dear songbirds.
Read MoreI think we as humans experience a collective aching to know ourselves, and psychics & therapists each illuminate different access points.
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