Well the evening is drawing on. After J left I turned the kitchen into a makeshift recording studio and attempted a soundscape. I know now that soundscapes, like brain surgery and poetry, are not to be attempted by amatuers. I'm still happy with the result but I doubt anyone will ever hear it.

It is, of course, September 11th and I'm drinking a toast to those who lost their lives on that terrible day, as well as those that lost their lives in the awful blundering mess that is the aftermath. Four years ago I was drinking wine and chowing down with an eclectic bunch of people at Sting's Italian house. I have some odd momentoes of that night, but still the most powerful one is the feeling that someone destroyed part of my growing up. New York City will always be the place I associate with waking up and getting some perspective on my life. I was 17 and ready for a change. The city, its people, those buildings, gave me the jolt I needed to figure out what I really wanted.


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