no keyboard sound: asleep

home key

twelve rooms. somebody left the lights on in all of them.

 
the last key: soft hard

glossary

a diary that turned out to be about music theory.

the album

polaroids of the phrases kept from drift, a little overexposed.

the book

every progression kept from a lesson, and every chord the hands have played, in any key.

the record

in your hands

progressions

sketches

chords

the words under every room

the songbook

the progressions worth keeping, each named by its job, each in any key, each shown as two notes a hand. they come from the rooms, and each one says where.

the left hand the right hand the rest of the chord

the moves

twelve things a progression can do, each found where a room plays it, in any key, in two-note shapes.

the progressions

listening

each piece played in its own room: its voice, its band, its tape, and on the plain piano with nothing around it. one batch to a page, with three questions under each piece; what is written stays here.

notebook

where you were, what was played there, and how each take went, kept for no one but you.

the ear sitting

each room's sound, one pass at a time, on headphones, marked keep, adjust or rebuild.