Piano in the dark

Being a hotel lobby pianist is a job, but it's only barely one. It'd be a dream job.

Maybe this summer.

I guess a part of me was glad to be holed up in a hospital room in St. Luke's Hospital in the Philippines. I hadn't been sick in such a long time. There's something... reflective, peaceful in a hospital room, no matter how busy the ward actually was. I remember thinking the clearest when I was there. Had I stayed any longer, my comparative solitude would've generated more than the one song I wrote there.

Or maybe it's actually visiting someone who's sick. I can remember the last time I visited someone in the ward at the GMH. Even though I knew that he's been visited profusely--he had a large family--I got the sense that he was glad I was there. I would've been the last person he expected to drop in. (The fact is I go out so rarely that I'm the last person anybody expects to drop by anywhere.) So we took a walk around the grounds, just to get away from the hospital smell. I'm sure that that spelled just a little bit of regeneration for the both of us.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: James Taylor, "Caroline I See You".