To my devout congregation of aesthetes;

There is exactly one week until I and the New Transcendentalists convene within the hallowed apartments of the House of David recording studio to engage in a course of experimentation which has never-before-been-attempted.  It is our aim to create a music that is completely spontaneous and in-the-moment, wherein the sum is greater than the parts.  We hope to render something that is strange to the ears (as anything truly new would be), yet intrinsically Good – filling a sonic void and thereby useful.  Music is to me an invention, and every Good invention begins with an idea.  Ideas come from the aether – not from that which is seen!  The world needs-not another version of the tooth-brush or the can-opener!

I had a dream last night wherein I had called a meeting with my fellow recordists to address the ‘rules’ of these sacred sessions.  It came to light that there was but one rule.  Each personage was asked to check his or her distinguished Ego at the door, and thereby given a ‘Claim Check’ in-order-to retrieve it in departing.  Beyond this one essential requisite, freedom was the mantra.  Many of my compositions have been born of dreams, and so I would feign-not dismiss such a message as a reliable bearer of Truth.  Yea, there is something bigger than the Self which I want to call the Composite Self.  Its recognition is all that is required to transcend any ill-perceived barrier.

Tonight we convene to introduce a new element to our music – namely the violining of the lovely Miss Amanda Shires, who will be joining us in the aforementioned sessions.  If you are not aware of her art-forms, I highly recommend that you call upon her at amandashires.net.  She is the author of her own periodical as well.

In these busiest of times, I have found it difficult to keep up with this journal.  I vow to do my very best to keep you apprised of our progress on this album which I consider to be by and for you in a greater degree than you might comprehend!  For today, it is my sincerest hope that the sun is shining upon you as it is me.

Yours truly,
Mister Hazelwood