Benjamin Más and I recorded this one back in May.

It didn’t take me long to photograph the stills and assemble the first full Final Cut draft; the majority of the legwork was done by June.

Prior to heading to DC for Breakpoint and jumping into the AFTH2012 vortex, I edited the audio and balanced the levels/tone. As I work, it’s not a long process.

The months passed, one priority overriding the next, the seasons going from summer to fall to winter. Adult life in the big city moves just so, and this piece was really just playtime, for fun, not critical.

20 children — small ones, just Ben’s age — were executed today. Their murderer was driven by forces I wish to never know.

I can’t think. I can hardly type this. Through the day, I’ve been alternating between tears and utter blankness for this spontaneous void.

I can’t pull my son to me right now; I can’t feel his warmth. Remembering this almost-complete piece, I opted for the next best option, his voice. It’s changed a lot in the months since this recording. The slight inflection of baby has been replaced by the confidence of boy; this is a time capsule. But I don’t care. It’s my child’s voice, and just hearing him happy gives me peace.

My sweet, growing boy, all his life still ahead of him. One day a man, someone I can’t wait to meet.

I think of these children in Sandy Hook and I feel headless and blind from pain.

These deaths won’t be senseless if our culture can pivot for it. America must reform gun laws now. Assault rifles have absolutely no place in this society. None.

My man Andrew put it perfectly today:

I’m going to hazard a guess that the authors of the 2nd amendment didn’t face the regular mass murders in classrooms, cinemas and shopping malls America has become sickeningly used to. Otherwise, perhaps, they might have put in an assault weapon caveat or two. You’re allowed to improve upon your laws over the centuries, by the way.