i used to say that if you need to leave me alone in this world with only one instrument to play on, i would choose to have a GOOD piano with me. it needs to be good. if it speaks well to me, i can speak well through it. that is why i have returned to a small studio in Belgium to record for a second time (the first was 2007 "Jy het my laat sing"). the blind sound engineer (Pino Guarrac) and i have a good understanding. he locks me up and let it roll for the hour and odd that i need to be with this GOOD piano. this improvisational journey resembles the recitals i gave during the nineties before i decided to make technology a partner on stage. the journey regularly presents surprises, familiarities, peaks and low points (the latter usually where a certain focus starts to fail me. but in order to regain it, i need to go through it. the journey loses its imperfect soul without it). when i entered the studio for this embarkment, i had Joke in mind, or rather, in heart. the title refers to her. it is dedicated to her, even though the link is mostly not too obvious. perhaps i should truly lock myself up in such a studio and its GOOD piano, like a Glen Gould, stepping away from audiences, like a writer, a painter, more wholly committed to the moment, the flow, the whole wide world out there.. perhaps this is what my retirement will look like? the song towards the end refers to Joke who had a terrible tooth ache at the time. having come into my life in a way i knew would be permanent, this is my song to her: you are the strongest that I in my life would have. to you, Joke!