I’ve played music since my youngest days in the heart of Illinois in a town of a few thousand people. My first instrument was a plastic guitar, my first device a transistor radio, my first tape deck a 3” Aiwa from the drug store in the county seat. In third grade I started formally learning to play drums in the school band. In middle school I played local gigs at birthday parties with my buddies. In high school I took some music theory courses and learned a little about white keys and black keys. Now that the leaves have changed colors and my ship is on the other side of the sea, I look back in wonder at the motivating, healing, calming, stabilizing, joyful cocoon these tiny twelve notes knitted into the flow of time have held me in. How does such a thing happen? How do we thank the world for music? Please accept this invitation to join a conversation.
