Our albums are in question. We talked it out. The next two months will be
our biggest test. If we make it, the two albums will get recorded. If not... who knows.
I'm confident. I'm concerned. There's no clear way to move forward, just the work that remains. We have imaginary boundaries that we must respect. To break them would be a mistake. We've had an agreement since we started. To break it is not an option.
So what's left? Panic.
This panic is different. It's changed as I've gotten older. It's not an outward projection. It's something much more subtle, a quiet nagging that won't go away -- nested in my senses, dulling the colors. The reason it stays is because I care.
We have to release the music. We will find a way to release the music.