Nothing is as tedious as the limping days,
When snowdrifts yearly cover all the ways,
And ennui, sour fruit of incurious gloom,
Assumes control of fate’s immortal loom
“Everybody has a song
which is no song at all :
it is a process of singing ,
and when you sing ,
you are where you are.”
John Cage
INSTAGRAM
BANDCAMP
YOUTUBE