Journeyman
Mama 6

When we close the door behind us, it must take us by the hand and create a carpet of fragrant grass under our feet. While we are busy with tender preliminaries, it must give wings to the room and leave us at the edge of an oasis. As the temperature rises, a sound environment must take shape, one that sees us, thirsty, drinking from each other's lips while drought cracks the earth and shakes the faith of the poor in spirit. An Arabic psaltery, a shining trumpet fill the always possible moments of embarrassment and lend a voice to affection. The hands, now branches of a tree shaken by a willful wind, translate in the air the arabesques of a solitary instrument. Soft hills of echoes let the pleasure that radiates from our bodies fade into a two-seater universe. And when ours merge into one flesh, let there be a fitting melody that knows how to dress us in purple and stars. Then let an instinctive rhythm advance that supports my thrusts, that gives strength to my persistence, that helps me open that door. And when the vital force bursts between us, kamikaze agents of a happier world, let fireworks of all colors explode and illuminate the night more than a sun for this our celebration. A subdued murmur accompanies after the new mutual acquaintance, and snapshots of remembered intimate sounds help us tell each other a bit of our story. And when it is not necessity but will that draws us close again, for an encore of our overwhelming success, let the fingers of the wind play the lines of our high tension for their entire length, until a blinding flash strikes between heaven and earth that short-circuits this electricity. Let the rumble last long and bring good news to everyone. When the dewdrop pearls have soaked everything and our senses awaken, the music will have repeated enough to be familiar, but not so much as to bore.

This cd lasts seventy-nine minutes and three seconds. Last night we got to the third listen. Journeyman (Paul Frankland) knows the needs of lovers and gives full satisfaction. I don't know where the sounds I hear come from. I don't know where the love I feel comes from. He told me he'll think of me. Besides, it turns out cooking is his forte. Hooray! Ambient music? Ambient music you and sòreta. Trance? Yes, I'll give you that: I was in a trance. And what a trance! Induced by his beauty? Induced by pheromones? Induced by this cd? Who knows? Maybe everything contributed. This cd was evidently the indispensable catalyst for that quality leap I had long desired in my life. Greater awareness of what I was doing, and why. Greater skill in how. It happened.

Red pants and shiny shoes, today.

Make way for the lion.