Improvising a Life.

Long-form improvisation...

That's life right?! We are constantly confronted with uncertainty, calamity, mystery, strange cul de sacs, wrong turns, unintended consequences, mistakes, misjudgments, thudding failures, misperceptions, delusions, bubbles popped, dreams deferred, or dreams squashed into oblivion like an army of ants on the sidewalk.

What to do?

We say, "Yes, and..." We keep the game going. We wing it. We make it up as we go. We live by smoke and mirrors. We try to defy gravity. We dance and evade, and duck, and run for cover. Flee. We flee, often from one place to another, and back again. We are the little people, the common people, you know the ones who stuff happens to. If there are consequences for major cataclysmic events, we are the ones who will suffer "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."

But, fuck it, we carry on, damn the torpedoes.

What of plans? Yikes. Sorry. No plans, "We don't have no stinking plans." We are just living in the moment. Living on a hope and a prayer. This breath, this blink of an eye. Alive. Improvising a life.

The a.m. soundtrack - Robyn Hitchcock's "I Often Dream of Trains." (1984). An odd, uncommonly beautiful beast of a record. Hitchcock name-checks Dylan and Syd Barrett as primary influences. Makes sense. The record starts with a gorgeous, moody piano piece. Most of the record is stripped down & acoustic. There are even a couple crazy-funny a cappella numbers. Lots of humor in the grooves. An uncommon intelligence and wit at work. I think Robyn was winging it, and not giving a damn, just letting it flow. Which really works. A freaky, funny, uncommon gem.