Suddenly out of the forest rises rippling roots of rhythm - pure rhythm. At least on the surface we consider it as much.

Everywhere somewhere there is another complex arrangement that makes progressive sense to someone else.. deep in the mix, working it out bit by bit. Patterns plotted out between brain sequencers ... it all makes sense in there it all makes sense in there...just keep telling yourself that and on the other side you will crawl out with sanity in tact. It is that time between ready and wrong that sanity is lost. Until the end is reached you can kiss sense goodbye and pick up the madness.

This started as a jam, and not many have in the last two years, but this one did. Perhaps it would be something completely different with the other elements, the other brains, but it is clear that not all patterns match or sequences equate. This one is different inside mine.... different. And on the other side of the globe there will be ears listening, wondering what my pattern was and not understanding ... and I hoping that the rhythm is good enough.

Data is lost in transit... all this on a Tuesday Morning.

Tuesday Morning by InTheBlackBox