He's bent over the strings tuning his guitar with such passionate attention I almost feel I should look away but I can't. In fact I'm full on gawking wondering what it would be like to be cool and casual and fearless and passionate and so freaking alive just like he is- and for a split second I want to play with him. I want to disturb the birds. Later as he plays and plays as all the fog burns away I think he's right. That's exactly it- I am crazy sad and somewhere deep inside all I want is to fly.

The sky is everywhere, it begins at your feet.

Music: what life, what living itself sounds like.

The guy's life drunk, I think, makes Candide look like a sourpuss. Does he even know that death exists?

Years ago, I was crashed in gram’s garden and Big asked me what I was doing. I told him I was looking up at the sky. He said, “That’s a misconception, Lennie, the sky is everywhere, it begins at your feet.

Dreams change, yes, that makes sense, but I didn't know dreams could hide inside a person.

We wish with our hands, that's what we do as artists.