Karen Dalton
It's So Hard to Tell Who's Going to Love You the Best

A little bit of rain.

It’s raining outside, my mind, a whirlwind of emotions, sensations, doubts, unfinished ideas, undone.

Everything that surrounds me, every event that involves me, every occurrence that brushes past me, makes me reflect, exalts me, corners me, wounds and exhausts me, delights me and then throws me to the ground.

A skin too few.

As the sister of old Nick said… a skin too few, a layer too few, a protection that simply is not there, never has been. So you perceive life in a different way, different sensitivity… what for others flows like the water of a late summer rain, in you has the effect of monsoon rain, torrential, a tsunami that overwhelms and overturns everything.

Strange sense of self-harm.

Why did I put on this CD? Why did I let Billie Holiday pick up an acoustic guitar and caress it so gently, sweetly… why did I allow again the melancholy of such an deeply angelic voice to hold me tight? Why did I let her folk, her sadly bucolic, bittersweet blues transform my evening?

The rain continues to fall on the glass of my window.

A little bit of rain… to remember all the good times, long days filled with sunshine. A little bit of rain… and to forget all the bad days, lonely blue and sad times.