Damian

You never stopped being my teacher. I never stopped being fourteen, wanting to show off a little to you. For all these years you have believed in me and counseled me. It was always of great artistic value to me to play with you and Martisor. I don’t know if you know this (perhaps I told you?), but one of the unpublished works I toiled at most had a character based on you and your career at WCI. In you I see a fellow misfit, a companion in the path of the gadfly. Though all these years, you have become an uncle to me. Perhaps this is an understatement, for I have not spared more than a passing thought to a single person my parents once had me call "uncle", not even the blood relatives who took me in their homes for two summers. Meanwhile, I find myself eager for the next time I am summoned to your magnificent court on Redfox for another upcoming performance. Maybe we could arrange to meet more often, maybe once a month, for some exchanges of stories and art. I feel like we both belong to the parlor life of an older time, so maybe a social project along those lines could be fun. (Also, I have yet to introduce my second piano to you!)