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Love Letter

If I were to write a love letter, it would be in E-Major.

The tones would be rich and deep and thorough, spanning the 88's entire double infinite.

Acoustic, of course.

The melody would tell a new story while bowing to the old. Music is so effective.

The bass tones would be as stable and rhythmic as foundation, while the harmonies remained haunting as memory. Over which would spread the sweetness of a cake-frosting soprano.

Ease of movement from left to right, a hop, a skip, a jump, a fall. Doesn't really matter, where she goes, as long as she goes.

All the emotions represented. All the relevance through the ages in musical figuration reaching out like tentacles, with the right parts to plug you in. Your own meaning fleeting as the moon's phases.

Simple notes added together to tell a story, held and then released. Held longer then released. Held longer than released.

The music never interrupted by a stubborn note. Even stubborn gets to be part of the mystery, creating suspension, just for interest--tension toward resolution.

Nothing finite. No dance can be pinned down, in the moment.

And the song is free to imitate the text. It only makes it stronger, more accessible. It can fully believe itself, and then putter in doubt for pages too, or both at the same time.

If I were to write a love letter, I'd allow one word after the other to burrow into past, present, future, as lightly, or as heavily as desired. Each word tasted and then forgiven.

Just for the sake of story upon story, and the capriciousness of it all. The organized mess.

Pointing toward a new dawn, but never promising to reach it.

Then I'd live it all over again, waiting for the familiar strains and the surprise, the returns and the deceptive cadence.

Then I'd end it abruptly, so that my next move would be anyone's guess.

And as for a signature, I'd leave it blank, so it could look lovingly on, as a mirror, with no playing favorites, and nothing hidden.


  1. I want to hear this love letter. I can hear it! So beautiful!

  2. You, my friend, are music to my soul. Truly, you are.

    I am deeply & forever grateful for your presence in my life. You have blessed me so.

  3. I too want to hear it! To taste it, feel it, be enveloped by it. "Each word tasted and then forgiven."

    Thank you beautiful one. Your heart is so strong.

  4. Sounds like an amazing love letter!

  5. I loved reading this post about your music. One of my favorite moments at SUU was sitting in a dark room while you practiced. Cedar City was a hard place for me to exist, but that day I felt home. Thank you for your beautiful thoughts!


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