Once you develop a routine (as in, what goes where), you become part of the score. In my workroom, I’m a dot connector. The conductor. I know from repetition and routine that the metal I’m holding or the tool on my bench – these have a place in the sound I want to make. After a while, it’s jazz. It’s calculated. There is a method at work. But there’s also some freedom. Wiggle room. I try to exist in that space that has no floor. Off the ground, so to speak. I juggle. And the ideal is when all my balls stay above me, and none hit the ground. But if they do fall, I’ll channel my inner PeeWee Herman and proclaim, “I meant to do that.”
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All This By Hand
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