A Happy Lizard

This tiny lizard was enjoying his day on a tiny patch of grass near a main road. The dangers that threaten him are infinite, yet his ignorance to them allow for his bliss.

Our patch of grass may sometimes be just a bit less tiny and a bit less green.

Here is the Hop of the Happy Lizard, a little song I composed for this marvelous little creature.

The Song of the Grasshopper

The little insects all around us are completely mesmerizing should we take the time to actually look at them.  They are busy doing their daily things, contributing just as much as we are, to life’s struggle.  It’s all beautiful to contemplate.


Traveling, a prescription for inspiration 

We must strive to leave our everyday location and change the experiences our souls and senses receive in order to create new art. 

It is key that we truly do leave so that we are open to the new. In order to do so, we as travelers must be cognizant that we usually bring ourselves to the trips we embark upon. Why not attempt to leave ourselves behind so that we can, with new eager selves, experience new stimuli and thus be renewed. 

Food for thought as you listen to some songs from far away:

What song does my city sing?

It seems there is always a melody in my mind.  The challenge has always been to bring this music out on the piano.  They say that words are not enough. Well, I contend that music by itself is not necessarily enough.  Music conveys and describes, but not completely. Yet, sometimes music conveys more than what could possibly be described in just words, or just pictures.

The delights of life

When looking at this picture, do you see the bleakness of human life?  This question is not rhetorical.  It’s also not meant as a juxtaposition of apparent beauty with “bleakness”, something most of us associate with a much greyer picture.  Why is there bleakness and despair here?

My piano music has been described as relaxing, yet sad.  I wonder whether beauty is surreptitiously related to sadness.

When all you need is good piano music


In an attempt to regain who I am, I usually listen to good music.  There are countless studies on the benefits of putting yourself in an environment where the senses are not attacked by damaging stimuli.  But, like smoking, the studies tell us one thing while we insist on being stubborn and listening to things that can objectively be categorized as garbage.  I guess garbage is to some an acquired taste.