I'm often blessed by the awareness that the sacral adventure is not alive unless one is expanding into new horizons. Tonight I'm laying on the floor beneath a bosendorfer grand listening to our friends playing a live jam.....not jazz american style, but classical mozart, schubert, brahms, violin & viola....phillipe chiming in with dance and song. Reminds me of how sensitive our brains/heart/endochrine systems are to acoustic music, no mikes, no cd, no digital sampling. Somehow the audible as well as non-audible acoustic spaces are filled with romance and silent messages. Closing my eyes I can see powdered wigs and scent bottles and stuffy embroidered velvet & stain, the colors melting from one age to another, simple human emotion filling the gaps between.
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