I am listening to four loaves of bread cool down, fresh out of the oven. I love the tiny popping sounds they make.
I think I mentioned that I used a recording of this at the beginning of the song “Where the River Flows” on the album Fete.
I am listening to four loaves of bread cool down, fresh out of the oven. I love the tiny popping sounds they make.
I think I mentioned that I used a recording of this at the beginning of the song “Where the River Flows” on the album Fete.
Ottmar, you are one in a million zillion trillion! Yes, I liked “Where the River Flows” with its cooling bread.
I wrote you a poem and humbly present it to you. What should I name it?
When long ago I first heard
Barcelona Nights begin its melody
On a single string, then in thirds,
My soul trembled.
Inhaling your artistry in song after song,
With their luscious beats and harmonies,
I wept as if finding at last place and time
So deeply yearned for, where I can belong.
You led my heart soaring,
Dancing through tears,
To feel the warmth of all love,
A constant joy through the years.
To me you dwelled far, far away
In mystic surroundings, free from the world,
To finally discover that you made your home
Right here in the town where I have made mine …
To learn you love Santa Fe as I always have done,
You’ve lived here, worked here, played here,
While I lived elsewhere and dreamed of returning,
My soul is now reeling to know you are near.
I never inquired where I might find you,
I felt you as music, not a being of earth.
Now we inhabit the same earthly space,
Now I want to speak what you mean to me.