If that's what lies at the end of this long streak, throw me to the deepest.
Break my bones with it.
I've cried too many mornings here.
I'm bled out.
Glow in your wake.
Burn right through me.
Live like your first days.
A couple of months ago, I started planning and rehearsing for Lindsey Abudei w/The Perfect 4th String Quartet.
It was my first time working with a string quartet (save for having the double bass/cello and violins as stand-alone accompaniments) so it was something I was excited about. Wanted an intimate session to share with the audience.Wanted it to feel like a conversation I invited them in for.
I didn't get enough mats/pouffes/ cushions as I'd wanted but I made do with some of my wrapper and cloth material + the cushions,throw pillows and a rug from a few friends.
Will let these photographs tell more:)
I live for the sun's kisses.
But today, the sun missed my face.
Alone in the myriad of lights,
I can only hear my voice in this vacuum
The words I've heard, all fallen to shrouded whispers.
Today, the sun missed my face.
I am the blind spot in this myriad of lights.