what you cannot see 10.7.25

I make music because it is where I let go of the have-to’s, and become part of something larger than myself. The language I speak on the keyboard when I improvise expresses a part of me that only comes out there at the moment of creation - when I’m fully connected and in the flow. In those moments when I disappear in the music, those are where I’m most fully alive. The musical question I pose to myself when I play is largely this: how can I release my inhibitions and let go of patterns sufficient to bring something entirely new, unexpected, and enlightening into the world, with structure, precision, clarity, and depth of expression. These pieces are meditations that are of me, but more precisely, they come through me. When I’m in the flow, I’m channeling the energy and only moderately directing it. The challenge is to be open to take risks while maintaining a structure, melody, and tempo that makes it interesting and satisfying enough to keep listening. I keep doing this nightly because it’s a language, because it’s a connection to something greater than myself, and because it’s very very relaxing.

what you cannot see 10.7.25

Chris Bright