Last night, intoxicated by the copious, rich and heady scent of sandal wood incense, in the well of the stairs in my little house, I tried to channel museic whose roots lie in something I read a long time ago.
I used three instruments, a cajon (essentially a plywood box, but sounds like the earth), a bamboo jaw-harp from vietnam and a bass bamboo flute. It was a wooden evening.
Like all the music I play, it just is.
“i” learnt long ago that there is no shame in playing, just feeling.
It’s not all magic, but that would be boring…