This Intangible Existence is the music of Terrell Brinlee, and the artists that he’s come to know over time. I write songs about the things I’ve experienced, the things that have touched me, and the things that I’ve touched. This is so that maybe one day I could help someone the same way that the songs of my youth & the artists that carried them help me. In early 2007, after getting in trouble with the officials of Acadiana, I crash-landed back in my hometown of Patterson, Louisiana. I began to search for something: something bigger than love as we experience it here. I wanted to experience complete wonder; I wanted to experience majesty greater than I was ever taught could be. I began to speak to whoever would answer me. As an early twenty-something in a post 9/11 America, I began to search out the deepest questions of my heart: Why am I here? Who’s in charge? & What happened two thousand years ago that everybody is fighting about? I began to search the internet about the things of the world, and between growing up in an emotionally abusive hoarder’s environment in the glamor of South Louisiana, and living among folk who’d rather not think past their forehead, I clung to the trade given to me by the First Baptist Church of Patterson: the piano. I asked many questions, and learned about many things: things like how beautiful the Procession of the Equinoxes and the signs of the Zodiac were, and how they could have something to do with Jesus Christ. I learned about how everyone has his or her own legitimate opinion about how the world began—and further more, how it will end. I questioned weather or not it was true that Jesus Christ could be the front-runner in this battle between all the other gods; all of the devils; all the aliens; and all of the preachers, shamans, scientist, and alchemists of this world. I asked if it were possible that a small town skinny kid like myself could have something to do with that. I learned about circles. I was given a map and all of the tools I needed to find my way out of the muddy waters of my native land. After being burned from a homosexual relationship, getting sober, and worshiping at a Pentecostal church I took on the title of Christian in a way that had never before in my youth: a title I still hold to this day. I moved to Houston, Texas where I began to seek out my aspirations of career, education, and reparative therapy. This year in 2012, I find myself making—what seems to be—a perfect circle in my life. This was the year that I saw most of the conversations that I’ve been having with God over the past six years finally begin to make since. I’m back where I began six years ago. Once I was asked if maybe I put myself back here so that I could continue to sing these songs. One way or another I know now more than ever what it means to be a sinner; what it means to be saved by grace; what it means to desire righteousness more than God, and what it means to fall on your face all over again. In ceremony of that I’ve put this record together. It’s a live set that was recorded by Billy Hillman in Huntsville, Texas. It’s just me and the piano, a quite beautiful one at that. I’ll never tell you I’m the best singer, or that I’m the best piano player. All I have to offer is my story, and I hope that it is heard as clearly as I experienced it. Sometimes I want to acknowledge; sometimes I want to be acknowledged. www.thisintangibleexistence.com