May 23, 2014 | Leave a comment I pick up a guitar, late, only a few coherent minutes to play, concentrate, work, I did something, instead of getting the sleep that I needed. OK, I did something. The next time, I’m going to think about where the music is going to come from, from the belly, from the heart, from elsewhere than my feeble mind, and then I’m going to pick up that guitar. Maybe. If I behave.