I admire the way insects work and work; the Borg in Star Trek. Unconnected to anything internally, ‘guys enough of this, let’s get a slice’. When I view them working, ants for instance, humbling intensity of their work, then remember a gazillion trillion cells inside this body are working at making the bladder empty, the pancreas secrete hormones and the heart pump. Every little cell is on a mission and never tells other cells ‘guys let’s see what’s on Netflix.’
If you think about it clumps and groups of cells, more and more start to resemble things like fingers, hands, arms, ribs blah blah blah. There is a view, one we cannot actually see but that makes it not less real, where the truth is – who you see in the mirror, is just a zillion katrillion cells. Just something dreaming it is one thing, John, Stella, Gertrude etc. but just a bunch of cells like insects being insects.
I thought about explaining this to the crowd before I started the next piano piece but ditched it. The idea of explaining what the songs are about feels better in my imagination than it ever does live. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"