When I’m in the studio, when I’m warm, when I’m what people call improvising, but what I call futzing because improvisation seems like such a… somehow institutionalized word. What I do is completely the opposite of institutionalized, it’s the messiest thing you can imagine. That when I’m in a certain state where the cerebral powers are turned off, and the body just goes according to directive that I know not of, it’s at those times that I feel a very special connection to… I feel the most right. I don’t want to become too mystic about this, but things feel as though they’re in the best order at that particular moment. It’s a short period. It goes only, at maximum, an hour. I pay a very great price to be able to maintain that. But it is, that hour that — I use the same phrase over and over again — that tells me who I am. I think it’s that way for anyone who does anything that is personal to them. There are moments where things come, and they don’t know where they’ve come from. It’s the business of discovery, and being able to have that freshness in your daily procedure that enrichens the life. It keeps the discipline that’s necessary for any artist from becoming stale.