there is a line you cross, but it moves all the time. there is no way to predict or trace it. you know when you have breached its walls, because of the way the room looks at you. like the patrons of a bar where you don’t belong. but i stare down that redneck in the corner. not because i think i can take him. but because i have nowhere else to go. i cannot move the piano at this point, we just have to decorate around it. it is too large to store and too sentimental to get rid of. so now is the time to take lessons. in order to make the architecture relevant and the things i have collected usable.