Eagerly anticipating a greens & cashew cheese rice pasta egg-stravaganza I have a moment to reflect on what is sacred to me, and full disclosure, in what order: family, good food, hiking, and then I put music/art. This is a small surprise, since I spend so much time practicing and conceptualizing my presentations. And this dedication to albums, performance, and the like, used to take a toll on my psyche and physical health, since ultimately it took me away from my top priorities. But then, as Hazrat Inayat Khan discovered in his own revelation, there's no need to separate music and beauty from the whole of experience. Music is experience, and experience is music. I think of all the commodity-making I have undertaken, and the arduous task of marketing and selling it thereafter. What hurt in the process (and this was repeated many cycles over) was my widget was my identity. Indifference to my output was a tiny dagger, rejection a fatal blow. Most of this (distinctly uncosmic) drama bounced around in the confines of my mind and limited perspective, but ate at me still. Now to greater extent, the process of exhibiting my wares nourishes, and it's because of this: I was attempting a market solution to an existential concern. My wares did not fill a basic survival need, and if anything, I was applying a salve to an unknown wound. My own remained unknown for far too long. Just as food energizes, it is remarkable to take a step past instinctual and necessary protection, and release and open and quit acting like I'm offering a staple. What I do is infused with material facts, acknowledging them, and making this awareness more satisfying and edifying and less distracting or displacing.