Still Passionate and Confused

First, by a fraction, comes the rainstick, just hinting; and then the first guitar spinning its steel-strung pattern, intricate, delicate, enduring. The pattern will not change. Yearning electric, high above like wind in wires. Bass, grounding, dark and deep, leading the music through successive chord changes around the unchanging pattern. Unresting, it moves on, lured occasionally by tantalising hints from the rainstick. Round its sequence of chords and back to the home key, but not to rest, never to rest. Flute, like the call of a desert bird, here and then gone; and the quest continues, only to fade on the air, unresolved.

This music speaks of far horizons, of heathaze, and something other. Long roads, distant mountains, and something other. Something intricate. Something enduring. Darkness. Depth. Yearning.

And the hint of rain.

Driving in this morning I put the radio on (I like to live dangerously, you know) and I heard a song called "Unwritten" by somebody called Natasha Bedingfield.

I didn't know people were writing songs like that these days. It's quite good. And it made me feel a bit better about myself after yesterday's slump.

Still an awful lot of pap out there, though...