Writing, recording, playing, performing.


Today I was playing the drum in Dad’s office that makes lots of different sounds through the computer. He kept changing the sound it would play, and then I’d play the drum to see what it was. Once he changed it and said, “What’s that sound?” I played the drum pad. It was a tuba. I like the tuba. I said “Tuba!” He was all surprised because I’d only ever heard him make a tuba sound with his voice. Psha.

some kind of truth

A credo.

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wood stove sounds

Thoughts during a meditation retreat. Just because you’re silent doesn’t mean you can’t eat yummy food with your friends.

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calling the maid

I wrote this in 1995, when a book by a medieval Zen master seemed to intersect with a romantic relationship. The story and metaphor are from the book, though the author was applying it to religious conversation and here I’m applying it to relationship conversations; I think the same principle is at the root of both.

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