is the title of a poem by e.e. cummings which sprang to mind when I sat down here to write tonight. Looking at the carefully-chosen-grey blank of the Word Press composition platform, I wondered where to start and the words that came to me first were “Thank You.”

Thank who? I’m not entirely sure and I’m not going to think too hard about it. I’m just grateful for the joy-life that parallels my work life, which has grown into a bravely beating heart of what I have long wanted to spend my life doing. And it feels quite natural at the same time that it is constantly exciting.

Artist: leaping hopeful excitement jitterbugs with abject terror to a band fueled by the drums of persistent craving determination.

Have a listen to Edward reading this very poem. Find your artist tonight:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axH9A28CTjw