I could not conceive or believe: it was more like an inspiration. - Charlotte Bronte Fifteen years ago today, I happened to sit down and watch two days of reruns. What transpired after was ten years of study. Then, nearly five years of - what to call it? Work? Not quite, though it consumed my every moment at times. An avocation? Perhaps. Or maybe it was indeed an inspiration. It was simply what I was meant to do. What I needed to do. It was who I was and what I did for someone I never met, who had such a profound impact on my life. This was his song. An odd choice, perhaps, but it made sense to me. So, Ill play it tonight. Write one last letter. Toast a scotch to the western waters, and put it all away.
Posted on: Wed, 31 Dec 2014 23:31:03 +0000
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