In approximately 2 weeks' time, I will be finished with the Grand Skull Piano. Totally and completely. Two years and two months of nonstop, intense, laborious, strenuous, oftentimes defeating, immeasurable work. As someone who has a deep respect for our predecessors, this process has helped me have an even greater respect for them, the great masters of old, who were devoted servants of patience, time, ingenuity, discipline, and effort. If they wanted something done, they had to learn how to do it, practice and fail until they learned how to trust the process enough (and themselves) in order to accomplish the vision at hand. This work has taken so much of my self and energy that I feel part of me now lives in it. A big part. A part I oftentimes wish I could get back, but I can’t. It’s permanently bound to the piece now. Immutably. The Grand Skull Piano has a soul. It is the one true FrankenSteinway. A living, sculptural relic. It knows no rival. It is not concerned about opinion. It is my invention. It is both art and sound. You can experience its presence visually, as well as audibly. It can be imprinted upon. Pianists can leave their mark on it forever. All the music I’ve written and played will live on it forever. The music my daughters have played, even just for fun, will live on it forever. Each time someone plays it, it will absorb their energy and capture it to the exact pressure and fragility they press the keys with. If it is in a room, you will be drawn to it. It will look into your soul and then sing to it. There is no other piece of art like this in the world. Come September 5th, you will see.