every piano player plays satie differently. and yet it's the same music. simply fascinating. i may not play like a kid at 66, but in essence, i still am. when i listen i'm playing the piano. you never know what is coming next, but you feel it coming. reading about satie's unconscious strolling around, i think of a psychologist saying my unconscious was on the outside, like my skin. then oddly i thought of the things we said one night in a lava house in oia. i couldn't remember a word of it, but the candlelight shined through the wine bottles and danced on the rounded lava stone ceiling. ghost light laughing.