That probably is a good thing, but the road to mastery is a great thing. I can't describe to you the feeling of being in the zone while making music, but I'll t

That probably is a good thing, but the road to mastery is a great thing. I can't describe to you the feeling of being in the zone while making music, but I'll try. Things will erode and decay, things will come into being, things will change. This flux is so constant that in truth there hardly are any things, just the changes; for as soon as you step in the river a second time, neither you nor the river are the same as you were. Epictetus, maybe? One of those guys. Likewise, music is inherently fleeting, yet it still makes sense. You can't hold music, yet there's still a sense of it being a thing that exists. Yet when it stops, it still somehow hasn't ceased to exist. The act of musical performance, even at a basic level, especially with others, brings us one step closer to something fundamental about the universe than other forms of expression. Like I said elsewhere, if you could ask the machine to pray or meditate, it wouldn't be fulfilling for anyone. It would be hollow.