I meant melody & strings, rhapsody & joy. Like wall barley, crumbling naked at a touch. An open sky.

I hear melancholy in it as well as contentment, but different listeners will hear different things.

I have stumbled into so many of the loves in my life.

To Trade a Throat for Song

Call this bridge, meeting place. Call it, mosque. Call it, and it will call back.

Lake Song

When night came, we were shepherded inside. Too many animals. Too many hungry trees.

Music, Personal EssayDanie ShokoohiSeptember 17, 2017

Home is a City in Your Mind

I stopped writing. Okay. Yes. But say instead, the world ended. Say instead, lobotomy.

Music, Personal EssayDanie ShokoohiSeptember 2, 2017

A Sonatina for King

When I think of my piano, I always picture an open lid, the keys collecting a shallow pool of the yellow light.

Homecoming (a selection, a remembering)

My two weeks of solid travel begin at 5 AM on the train platform to Chicago.

The first time I ever watched a movie in black & white was on invitation from Isabella.

Nocturne is a drive home from the airport. It’s transition. It’s an indescribable ache.