Conducting an experiment of sorts today, to do something I have been resisting for years now. First thing in the morning (whatever defines morning on a given day) is perhaps my best time of clarity. A good time to write, except for a commitment to playing the piano first, ideally before anything else. This has served me well for the desired purpose of opening up the creative space and allowing me to more easily find it throughout the day. For some people, the creative space involves words, but for me, not (or at least much less) so. Words often lead me to spaces in my head, and the absence of words can more easily allow me to find the spaces in my heart. As much of my lifetime that I have spent tangled up in my head, it is easy for me to understand my PTSD of sorts regarding the concern (or perhaps fear) of losing my space (in the space) when I need to find it later in the day. And I'm talking now about when at the piano, which I've come to embrace as my (main) communication portal. That portal goes both directions, inward and outward, to the connections I can make beyond myself. Of course, words can communicate too. And I'm not incapable of using them. In fact, some times it can work out quite well. But only sometimes. This evening (since I'm writing on a Monday) will be another Mainstay show, where I'll have to speak in addition to playing. My stock line that I will often say is that it's a crap shoot every time I pick up the microphone. What I won't often say is that it can also a crap shoot every time I sit at the piano. And my responsibility to play the odds in my favor, so to speak, whenever I perform. Since I am performing most days, it is a lifestyle choice of sorts to revolve my day, and even my life to a large extent, around the piano. So here I am, sitting at my laptop, living on the edge.