Analect 2.325x

7 August 2008. Gray morning light, four crows, the nearest with ragged wings, but dipping fiercely nonetheless. Woman alongside in the blue-green pool, small reddish fins, churning. Color and light.

And song. As in a screen-flash message from the middle of a continent: "Greetings from Olavarria, Buenos Aires, Argentina!" That would be Chugo, his Ibanez (or was it a Stratocaster?) leaning against the edge of the varnished plywood worktable, worn bass right alongside--the nicks and dings from half a lifetime of playing, somewhere out there on the pampas, city of concrete, beaming in the licks of a grungy bare-topped Eddie Van Halen... A generation of students as well--their letters of hommage on a black-ground blog, penned in hope...

Thanks and aspiration. To what more can we aspire? Maybe a few good waves...