Two ancient modes of mind meet at the heart of this piece: improvisation and pre-planning. From a handful of randomly drawn notes, a spontaneous musical Oracle is created — unrepeatable, alive in this moment. From that same seed, a carefully constructed Musical Canon (a type of “round”) takes shape, precise and inevitable. Inspiration and architecture. Moon and sun. Intuition and intellect. This is a
meditation in sound on how we meet the cards life deals us — and how we choose to respond.
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william
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Oracle and Canon
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The Voice and the Ink
Once, in a quiet part of the world
where rivers ran backwards
and the stars could be heard humming in the dark,
there lived two souls
who loved each other
but often could not understand one another.
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The Atlas of the Human Heart
A cartographer mapped the heart with perfect precision.
Then a visitor arrived — full of feelings that didn’t fit on her page.
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The Shepherd of Souls
Once upon a time there was a shepherd named Lior,
who lived happily in the mountains
with his wife and young son.Their life was simple and hard.
Yet they had each other,
and their sheep,
and the mountains and valleys were so beautiful —
beautiful beyond words.
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The Wayward Gift
A tale of mercy, betrayal, and the mysterious ways grace unfolds.
A young woman’s kindness is repaid with treachery… yet what she loses becomes a blessing in unseen hands.
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The Luminous Moon
This video is an experiment in piano four-hands. Normally, for piano four-hands, two players sit at one piano, with one playing the high part and the other the low.
Instead, here I video myself playing each part — one at a time — and then combine them.
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The Quirky Blacksmith
A GrailHeart story.
The village blacksmith was
a man of steady heat and hand.
With a few quirks no one quite understood.
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As Above, So Also Below — A Musical Ambigram
Music, like the cosmos, has its hidden symmetries.
Turn it over, and it tells you the same truth – yet not the same.
Right becomes left, above becomes below,
but the song still breathes.
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Branches Longing for Birds
(Poem & Music)
There is a kind of longing that does not chase.
It does not run or reach.
It simply stretches — quietly, openly
— toward the possibility of something unseen.Like branches.
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The Listening Light
I stepped into the old stone chapel,
its door half-swallowed by ivy,
its windows dusted in the hush of years.
A single beam of afternoon
cut through the dusk like a blessing.
Dust floated like memory,
and the stones exhaled
a silence older than prayer.
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