"...and she is showing you a beautiful world." So sings my friend Sarah Krebs in her haunting acoustic recording, "Minor Love".
Her songs often express this sort of disenchanted optimism, extreme vitality of spirit in the face of heartbreak, and an acknowledgement of the lacy delicateness of each present and passing moment -- the romance contained in each.
I had the pleasure of hosting this voice and this lovely lady in my home a couple years back, if only for two weeks. She slept on a thin foam cushion, slid off the living room sitting-bench each night at bedtime, and her music floated down the hall and warmed the morning air long before the winter pipes began to crackle and groan and pump heat.
This moment comes to you thanks to today's unique combination of:
a. Knowing that the weather is changing in Santa Fe, and
b. Wanting to feel the crunch of little yellow potato chip-like leaves on the icy pavement, and
c. Missing, and
d. Not having anyone in particular to talk to, and
d2. Thinking about my numerous and bless'ed friendships.
Enjoy the Sarah link, and if you are so lucky, the dawn of wintertime. Get to know Sarah better in this three-part documentary.
