Cello Man Dreams....

I am not more than a week away from having a new album out with this title. It has been a fascinating process - sometimes smooth sailing and other times just standing around trying to figure out how I can even take another step. I chose to do my own production and engineering with help from a brilliant friend, Kabir, who I encountered in the park. He has been a big help on the technical side. Beyond that it has been a little like being blind and feeling my way through. But I am pretty happy about it. I will be out in the park today - it is an overcast Sunday - and I will have some clips soon to post so that everyone can get a taste of what this is all about.

In the mean time, here is a poem from Mary Oliver:

Straight Talk from the Fox

Listen says fox it is music to run

over the hills to lick

dew from the leaves to nose along

the edges of the ponds to smell the fat

ducks in their bright feathers but

far out, safe in their rafts of

sleep. It is like

music to visit the orchard, to find

the vole sucking the sweet of the apple, or the

rabbit with his fast-beating heart. Death itself

is a music. Nobody has ever come close to

writing it down, awake or in a dream. It cannot

be told. It is flesh and bones

changing shape and with good cause, mercy

is a little child beside such an invention. It is

music to wander the black back roads

outside of town no one awake or wondering

if anything miraculous is ever going to

happen, totally dumb to the fact of every

moment's miracle. Don't think I haven't

peeked into windows. I see you in all your seasons

making love, arguing, talking about God

as if he were an idea instead of the grass,

instead of the stars, the rabbit caught

in one good teeth-whacking hit and brought

home to the den. What I am, and I know it, is

responsible, joyful, thankful. I would not

give my life for a thousand of yours.