TALKING THROUGH WIRE IN A FREEZING WIND:

 

The fifth coming of Winter is upon us! Snow falls on Spring

buds & blossom refuses to bloom. I drive into town with 

heater & radio for company, head down to the art store,

top up on tools. The phone rings, fills with the tumbling

voices of journalists calling from Europe, positive about 

the Edgeland album. It’s refreshing to engage in intelligent 

conversation, they all see the journey & get the story 

before I even open my mouth. We get round to Synesthesia 

& the work of an artist I wish I’d met when he was alive,

seems we had a lot in common, a curious combination of 

rhythms if our paths had crossed?

 

(K)