The music gets to me

Sat down in the studio, plugged in my headphones and began the ritual of listening, over and over again, to the music Izzy sent as background for the podcast. This gets me thinking, speaking, even moving in rhythm of the music. It modifies my flow and synchs me to the feel of the music.

Yes, the words are the colours of my soul, but the music is the canvas on which it is spread like a beautiful woman, surrendering upon sheets of satin and silk. Her skin soft and warm and an invitation to worship altar of passion.

I digress. Phew.

The piece that Izzy sent is strange. Hypnotic. It got inside me. And I had to step away for a bit. We're still recording, still tweaking, and by all the Gods real and dreamt and slandered, the podcast will be done this weekend. The fire is upon me and must be purged in release.