Last evening was one of those more spectacular times to walk out on the Chester River bridge, and view the sunset. I was actually headed somewhere else, but knew, as I traveled, that there was some place I needed to be; someplace else I was supposed to be. So I went there. It would be fair to say that the outcome of that was to capture images, like the one posted above. But why was I there, really?  I was there to experience it. And by experience it, I mean the way that I do (or should); by letting it speak to me, by becoming absorbed by it, perhaps even a part of it. And most importantly, to be thankful for it. So, here I go again to assert that I am not a photographer. I am a musician, who is learning to make music by this same means; to experience what is already there, to connect with it, and to document it (for others). Kind of like the old adage to listen before you speak, just applied everywhere. And although I have learned that this is how I am made to operate, it doesn't mean it necessarily comes easily. Because, to listen first, one has to stop talking. Like I said, not always easy, at least for me. So, if I already feel that I have something to say, it may well be that I am speaking on my own, even if trying to listen at the same time. Doesn't really get me there. So I wait. Not long, though one can never overestimate the potential of human impatience, or measure it in too small increments. And when I get out of the way, there it is. So as I stood out on the bridge last night, it hit me: I am a bridge. What I can find intuitively (or with my feelings), I can pass along to others through sensory experience. This is what it means (for me) to play piano. And why picture taking is (for me) piano practice. It puts me in the place I need to be.