My brothers and I were all in the same place at the same time recently. The distribution of genes never ceases to amaze. I stand alone but in the mirror all their faces look back. When I laugh or sneeze or wince, there they are again or else it is my parents. Even walking down the street, I notice the continuity of our postures. It is that moment in Life of Brian where he says to gathered crowd “You’re All Individuals!” and every single one of them replies in unison “We’re all individuals”. I am often looking at the spread of genes in the faces of the children of people I know. It is also very amazing and endlessly interesting. They have the mother’s eyebrows and the father’s chin etc. Also fascinating are the internal repetitions, maybe even more frightening and telling. They show anger exactly the way I have seen their parents or manipulation or power or sometimes generosity and kindness but it seems just as photoshopped as their physical parts. Is my laugh my father’s? from his mother’s? from her mother? from her father? One time a guy in Alberta reviewed a piano concert and disliked me much. At one point called me primitive. I bet he didn’t realize there was a troglodyte once upon a time who improvised the same way I do now. If you can look at life in a certain way, it is no surprise.