"My grandfather was the kind of person I thought would live forever. He always had this aura of strength and happiness, illuminating the room when he was present. Even though he resided in Japan and I in America, I always felt a sense of home when we were together. In late October, he had a stroke and quickly left this world a few days later. Surprised and confused, I could not believe it to be true. How could a man who I saw the year before radiating with such energy and life suddently disappear? During this time I was also transitioning through a couple of other situations, but this was something else that was completely unexpected and something I was not at all prepared for that sent me into a very fragile state of mind.

Many emotions filled my mind, I was heartbroken that I would not be able to hear his voice or laughter, upset that I was not present when he was at his end, and finally, joyful that he was able to join his wife in the spiritual world. The pieces of this record, written in the order that they appear, came to life in the span of the month that followed. I asked my mother to write a tanka (my grandfather published five books of his own poetry) with him in mind and decided to recite it in the fourth composition of this record in Japanese.

This record came from a very pure place, pushing the limits of my mind and body and allowing me to become closer to my instruments. I hope somewhere, wherever he is, my grandfather can hear this music and know that it is for him. Until the next life, ojiichan."-Patrick Shiroishi