Goodnight Jack

Visiting with my inner craziness tonight. How dare I work to harness my soul to the formula of music? Measures? Counting? Bah- Uniform pitch and chords progressions that belong and make sense? Stifle the soul and spoil the rod? (That's not right.) I once spent twenty years trying to perfect and understand the seemless paragraph. It has to be done. Ah to be a Van Gogh and not Picasso, Kerouac- not Hemingway. Balzac - not Flaubert. But its not to be. I learn and dream of flying free. I will learn this foreign thing. Goodnight Jack.