For Me, Personally, It Is Very Important

As A Person, I'm Polite - I Want To Please.

I’m Not Interested In The Words Or The Meaning Of The Words. I’m Interested In Disappearing In It Completely, To Not Be Aware Of Yourself At All. That’s The Way Music Works For Me. It’s Purely Emotional. It Goes Straight To The Heart. There Are No Explanations. That’s Just It.

The Tree Was So Old, And Stood There So Alone, That His Childish Heart Had Been Filled With Compassion; If No One Else On The Farm Gave It A Thought, He Would At Least Do His Best To, Even Though He Suspected That His Child's Words And Child's Deeds Didn't Make Much Difference. It Had Stood There Before He Was Born, And Would Be Standing There After He Was Dead, But Perhaps, Even So, It Was Pleased That He Stroked Its Bark Every Time He Passed, And Sometimes, When He Was Sure He Wasn't Observed, Even Pressed His Cheek Against It.

You Don’t Think When You Play Music, You Just Try To Play And Be In It. It Is The Same For Me When The Writing Is Going Really Well. It’s The Same Kind Of Feeling. I’m Just In It. It’s Not The Words, It’s Not The Sentences, I’m Not Aware Of It. Then It’s Good.

The Way We Deny Death Says Something About How We Live Our Lives, Doesn't It? At Least In Sweden Or Scandinavia, You Don't Have To Search Further Back In Time Than Maybe Three Generations To Find Another Way To Relate To Death. People Then Had A Different, Closer Relationship With Death; At Least It Was Like That In The Countryside.