bertrand and snow in sincerity of evans
outside my window is swirl of grey and blue. the mountains appearing and disappearing, as wind brings the thin veil of floating snowflakes around the quiet afternoon. i have much work to do however i am not able to concentrate on task on hand. this is rather unfortunate since even if i work around the clock, i will not be able to complete as many tasks i would like to. but what is the point of getting angry at the score- it wont reveal anything to me, until i take the time to sit down with it and have a real conversation. hey score, what are you all about, really, what are you trying to tell me? i know you are just a messenger and that you probably will bring me more questions than answers. but i still want to know what you need and want to tell me. i will stay quiet and pay attention, i will try. and if i cant listen and see what you need to show me, i may as well leave you for now, rather than trying to mold you from me. you are already set in concrete form, black inks on whi...