There is a territory I’ve been to but can’t just get there effortlessly. A space where one plays something they never played before which feels very stimulating, astonishing even. Like being on a precipice, characterized by the suspension of thought and that’s precisely what ends it. Similarly when standing before an audience singing and wondering if you will remember the words and then internally disputing the very thoughts questioning what you are doing while simultaneously doing it. The more internal stress over sustaining non-thought, the sooner it ends abruptly, usually an unflattering ending. Yesterday, a hike by the Mississauga campus of the University of Toronto. At one point came to a rushing stream. The allegory of thought and flow, at the mercy of the current yet wired up to see nothing remarkable about it. Attempts at sharing this, fail to impress my friend, but I can’t help trying. It’s as though thoughts are liquid, and a current moves through mind. What passes for you is not something capable of stopping thought, but something at the mercy of the force that unstoppingly thinks. The coolest thing about improvising, especially in front of an audience, is the testing of one’s capacity to travel toward the territory of non-thought, intentionally. Tricky to see as is knowing there is no such word as unstoppingly.