Drums and heartbeats

This cover reminds me of my own heartbeats. Deep down, behind the sound/the flesh, behind the lyrics/my words, behind every utterance, every breathing, every mask. It is the rhythm that you hear especially at the beginning, the one that I hear inside myself, when I listen, the one that I heard so long ago, on ice. It reminds me of what I have put in all my dreams – deferred, destroyed, or still hanging there. It reminds me of my first flames of passion, of how much I loved to dance and how much I wanted to be born in another country. And it reminds me of growing up, of meeting the World of Words, putting in them what I felt in every winter and what I had to leave in the world of childhood. I am probably a slave of my own heartbeats, inside myself, outside myself, in the things that I search, in everything that I want to say, in every person that I meet and cherish. It is this heartbeat that I want to offer to my people, this one that I try to put on a blank page, and at the same time, the one that burns. It is the sound that I want to let it free, the one that I keep searching, being there, and still, unable to grasp. The only religion that you have, the only thing that makes you feel alive. And still, without a name, without a proper word to be defined ...