I want to go where the real musicians are, the ones who practice day and night, without concert, without smoke and light, without trend and fan, where east meets west, classical sitar and flamenco guitar, staccato rhythmic clapping and Spanish. The musician travels inward, their sound travels outward, travels inward and my mind expands beyond this realm. The physics of it all is baffling. All of these elements moving in different directions as one cohesive experience. Both here and not here. This must be the secret of the universe, forever expanding and contracting, beginning and ending, the music our ever-changing vehicle, the musician our interstellar Uber driver.