“When we love, we always strive to become better than we are.” -The Alchemist
I’ve always believed the best type of songs are written for one person, and the best performance is a conversation with one person. Even if the one person is not in the audience, or the song was originally written for someone else, I can’t help but imagine one person as I am singing. I drop to my knees on stage, I break into tears; I succumb to the music completely. Normally I cannot dance but on stage, the music moves me and my hips press against the keyboard, my body becomes fluid. I am always singing to one person in my mind, even if he is fictional.
When I want someone with all my heart, I become a vessel through which stories and songs emerge. I do this anyway, as a lifestyle, but when I’m turned on, in love, truly moved by another person, I don’t even need food anymore. All I can eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner is my desire, my longing, the inspiration he gives me with his beauty, his mind, his words, his spirit. My art and writing and music has potential to send him a message; it is communication, and I imagine him reading it, hearing it, seeing it, knowing me. If it’s a new piece, the song is a conversation with him; it’s made of his essence; he is breathing into my keys, through my hands, singing through my voice. He is more than a goal or a chase; he is a force in the universe that I have locked in with. The trees have a pulse and the grass has veins. The clouds are made of diamonds that tumble around each other like lovers wrapping their limbs together. The wind has a taste and my feet have wings. Everything is alive. I cannot help but sing, write, create. Art and music is the same as breathing. There aren’t enough hours in a day to breathe in the smell of nature, pour out the musics and arts and words that run through my veins, dream of his touch and explore his mind. I’m changing, I’m growing, I’m expanding. At the same time I’m boiling down to one simple truth.