Home again, my exhausted brain is on random play, thinking about music, about Kimmy, about community, about death, about improvisation, all the things I immersed in on our bi-annual music gathering in the hills above Santa Cruz. I'm also thinking about the apocalyptic orange sky outside right now.
The pandemic highlighted how important it was to all of us to have this music-based community, to recommit to one another, to hold each other up and cheer each other on, and to know that these friendships would be here when we return. The ultimate intimate connection for me is the music. When words fail, there's music.