Food
Forever Is a Dream

In the company of the dreamlike silence, that sweet companion of another sleepless night, softly suspended on tips over cotton candy terrains. Where minds dare. Chasing the same dream while treading distant paths, an orchestrated album but without sweeteners. San Francisco, a countercultural hub where bands glide on mystical sound carpets. Panels of light intersected by the free-flowing jazz of Coltrane, those delightful infusions with Dizzy Gillespie and Theolonius Monk, scenarios of universes on which to project inner visions of a wildly moving reality.

Those pure light directories followed by the pioneers of sound, Hendrix & Jerry Garcia, being made of gold and unable to sell it. That refined baroque pop in the company of the mad hatter, that circular chemical journey on a Parisian manège, high up on the hot air balloon or astride a Vincent Black Lightning. Refined alchemy of psych deconstruction and delicate fingerpicking, that emotional web of longing, introspection, and wasted lives.

Forever Is a Dream