I don't have a 10-octave range. No human being has a 10-octave range.
When you're improvising, you're relying on this connection to creativity.
When you look at a photo twenty years from now, if you look at a photo of a moment in your life, or some friends, or yourself, you just have a lot more information about what that memory was. That's exciting to me. It's like a form of time preservation, I suppose.
In the absence of truth there is confusion, the essence of truth.
I consider myself something of a self-taught anthropologist.
When I'm at the piano, and I'm improvising some song about something, it usually oscillates between factual, absurd, and sincere.