Love Vinyl? Steam Pony's record is available here! Just message me! 




I want to share with you the sounds of my soul.

They are not perfect.
 
They are not polished.

They are the pieces of me that break off when I fall apart.

We all fall apart.  This is why music sings to you.  This is why poets write, singers sing and players play.  Falling apart in a beautiful way, so when you go back and sing the song again, you pick up a few pieces, put yourself back together in a new way.

Welcome to a front row centre view of the inner workings of an emotional poet.
Fresh News! Steam Pony is rehearsing with a band comprised of live musicians (go figure!) who will embody the grace and power of the music without the solo weirdness that is inherent in leaving Signe alone with her recording device. 

Look out world, Steam Pony is about to storm the stage and press a record.  So, if you want it, let me know and I'll send you a signed copy.



Welcome to Signe's emotional outbursts, arranged into verses and harmonies.  Steam Pony is currently working on a new album to be released on vinyl and download only!  A bit of a bio, Signe has been writing songs since the age of 7, and plays a couple dozen instruments (some better than others.)  Her music has not been entirely accessible as she is constantly pushing the envelope and has not been too interested in appeasing the public tastes, but with the new album, there is some impetus to actually create something that can be played in polite company.
Find some coolaborations with the likes of Trevor Sie (Ironhorse), Dan Frechette (The Breadwinner), Kevin Hillier (Orange Peel), Mark Klassen (All Right) and Richard Moody (Song in my Head).
Instruments I play in these songs include various keyboards and synthesizers, pianos, organs, cello, drums, clarinet, bass clarinet, guitar, bass guitar, banjo, accordion, bells, and using a mixer like an organ to collage tracks.

Maybe the Welders have brought their punchy, infectious, post-punk rock to the NYC masses for a number of years. This spring and summer, they are touring around the Eastern United States and beyond to promote their five new singles. Recorded by Ben Rice of Black Bells, mixed by Boston music stalwart Matt Girard, and mastered by Jeff Lipton of Peerless Mastering --a recent Grammy nominee and mastering engineer for Best New Artist winner, Bon Iver -- these recordings capture the true, live sound of MtW. Check out the video for their newest single, "Bartlett's Quotations," after the jump.

Maybe The Welders play regularly around the Northeast, as well as Brazil, where they made front-page news on their tour in the spring of 2010. Their 7 song EP, The Hot Shot EP, was released in the fall of that year, and has been selling briskly on iTunes, Amazon.com, and at their shows. Inflected with the sounds of New York's past, present, and future, Maybe the Welders are continuing their city's rich tradition wherever people crave rock and roll. Come to one of their explosive, live shows and see what the fuss is about.

Here you'll be able to listen to some tracks from my Christmas Album, "A Little Christmas In My Coffee." Silver Bells is a Free Download! Click on the arrow pointing down. 

Go to iTunes to purchase a copy today!
http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/a-little-christmas-in-my-coffee/id408839190

"A Little Christmas In My Coffee" gives a more contemporary folk, pop, country, and indie feel-a breath of fresh air, for songs we've all heard and enjoyed a million times. Fall in love again with all the classics, in a style you never expected.

Much Love and Happy Holidays to all!!
-Kristin Schuster

OFFICIAL BIO -  DIANE AND THE GENTILE MEN 
(Diane Gentile, Matt Basile, Colin Brooks, Jason Victor)
With Alfonso Velez sometimes.
Diane had just returned from an acoustic tour in England and began working late nights at a local music venue in New York City.  She spent many hours there listening to every kind of band perform. "It made me miss being on stage and kept knawing at me to get on with my real passion."  One of the bands that really spoke to her was The Miracle 3, fronted by renown singer/songwriter Steve Wynn, of the Dream Syndicate. "There was a magical interplay between him and guitarist Jason Victor.  It had a certain melodic chaos, that distinct kind that I really wanted to hear on my record.".   She then met drummer Colin Brooks at a show where he was laying down his super soul beats in The Hurricane Bells. She was also inspired by bassist Matt Basile, on stage with a dual female fronted rock band, Mother Feather. "Suddenly I saw before me, my new group."   Alfonso Velez walked in shortly thereafter and became the final addition to this congregation. This is how Diane and The Gentle Men came to be. 

Not too long after playing shows to full houses in venues such as Rockwood Music Hall and Berlin in downtown Manhattan, the band soon ended up in a cool new studio built in an old firehouse in Redhook Brooklyn, called Atomic, where Interpol and Mark Ronson had recently recorded.  Steve Wynn agreed to produce this first EP to be released through Velvet Elk/One Little Indian Records (Bjork, Dead Heavens, Twilight Singers). 

The A-side, "Motorcycle" "was inspired by strumming a warn in 1957 Gibson drinking a glass of white wine and thinking about one of the new local heroes in town, who plays in a couple of bands, Threats/Drowners.   B- side "Boyfriend" and bonus track "Wasted Word" were blasted through fast and loose in that instant one-day session.

The record was mixed by Clif Norell, (R.E.M., The Replacements, Bruce Springsteen) and the other tracks mixed by Merle Chornuk (Ryan Adams, Nels Cline), the owner of Atomic Studios. 

With this first EP behind her, Diane began opening for acclaimed artists: Richard Lloyd (Television), Steve Wynn, Jesse Malin, Tommy Stinson, Jason Darling, Laura Cantrell and more.   Diane and the Gentle Men finished recording the full album in November 2018 for release fall of 2019.

"For years I've written songs behind closed doors. I've craved for the moment when the writing would go to the players, come alive, hit tape, and gain character, finally reaching that stage, where the songs are no longer just mine.”

INFO ON CAUGHT IN A WAVE ALBUM - 2015
THE ALBUM
Caught In  A Wave is the debut album by Diane Gentile.  The record opens with "Happy", a slightly sarcastic take on a love relationship. The closing track is a cover of Marc Bolan (T-Rex) song "Life's A Gas".   Caught in A Wave is about a time and place.  It's about riding that one wave.

This record was made with the help of some wonderfully talented musicians: Don DiLego, Derek Cruz,Todd Youth, Colin Brooks, Matt Basile, Tye Smith, Johnny Martin, Brian Purwin and Scott Campbell.  Special guests include Tommy Stinson (Replacements) and Jesse Malin who produced a few songs.  Recorded at the Velvet Elk Studio (Don’s studio) in The Poconos in Pennsylvania, in Brooklyn at Atomic Studios with engineer/owner Merle Chornuk, with engineer/producer Rudyard Cullard at Strotosphere in NYC and with Mark Lewis at Under Hi-Fi Studio NYC. 


For more go to www.diane.gentile.com
please join the mailing list there.
To contact the artist -  please write to dgen21@aol.com.

RACHEL RAVEN: Vocals and Guitar
ALEX RAVEN: Guitar

CONTACT:
raven_entertainment@yahoo.com

Rachel Raven and Alex Raven are veteran performers and musicians. 
They perform a variety of Folk/Traditional songs, Jazz Standards, Blues, Country, Christmas and Chanukah songs,  Irish music, Jewish and Hebrew songs, and Musical Theater pieces. 
Rachel and Alex also perform full Holiday Programs. 
Rachel Raven has years of experience performing at nursing homes and assisted living facilities, and over the past year has teamed up with her husband and guitarist Alex Raven. 
Together they provide an uplifting and positive musical experience that encourages audience participation.

Song list includes:

When Irish Eyes Are Smiling
Cry Me A River
Wonderful World
Waltzing Matilda
Drunken Sailor
Go Lassy Go
Summertime
Hey Good Lookin'
Saints Go Marching In
Amazing Grace
All Of Me
Where Or When
How Blue Can You Get
Sunrise Sunset
Danny Boy
Folsom Prison Blues
At Last
Close To You
I'm A Little Cookie
Early In The Morning
I Fall To Pieces
Silver Bells
Rock Me
Utsuesta
Key To The Highway
The Chrismas Song
Walkin' Blues
Sivivon
Hallelujah
When A Man Loves A Woman
Simple Gifts
Chasing Rainbows
Merry Little Christmas
Somewhere Over The Rainbow
This Land Is Your Land
Kitty Cat Scat
Don't Rain On My Parade
The Rose
Donna Donna
Crazy
Feel Like Going Home

MARY GAUTHIER 
 In a Nashville bookstore, to the tune of steam hissing from a latte machine and laptop taps of nearby browsers, she speaks in a low voice, yet communicates urgently. Her voice never rises. Her music never rattles rafters or crashes like cymbals toward the high notes in a power chorus. Her tempos shuffle and trudge more than they dash.  And her songs? They're about as idiosyncratic as anything in the wide world of "popular music." They're painfully personal, especially on Trouble and Love. Yet they somehow infiltrate the souls of her listeners, no matter how different the paths they've followed through their lives. 
 Those songs weren't so much written as harvested by Gauthier. Though she lives not far from the hit-making mills of Music Row, she admits to knowing nothing about how to write on command.  She says, "I have to be called to write. The call comes from somewhere I don't understand, but I know it when I hear it."  That call first came to her a long time ago. Her life to that point had led her to extremes, plenty of negatives and a few brilliant bright spots. An adopted child, who became a teenage runaway, she found her first shelter among addicts and Drag Queens. Eventually she achieved renown as a chef even while balancing the running of her restaurant with the demands of addiction to heroin.  Two more successful restaurants, an escalating addiction, and a subsequent arrest, led her into sobriety. All that was rehearsal for what to follow, when she wrote her first song in her mid-thirties.  From that point, Gauthier channeled a long line of works, almost all of them eloquent in their insight, burnished by her writing technique. A core of devotees came to await each next release. Their wait ends, for now, with Trouble and Love. 

This time, Gauthier's songs rise from what she describes as an especially dark period. "I started the process in a lot of grief," she explains. "I'd lost a lot. So the first batch of songs was just too sad. It was like walking too close to the fire. I had to back off from it. The truth is that when you're in the amount of grief I was in, it's an altered state. Life is not that. You go through that. We human beings have this built-in healing mechanism that's always pushing us toward life. I didn't want to write just darkness, because that's not the truth. I had to write through the darkness to get to the truth. Writing helped me back onto my feet again. This record is about getting to a new normal. It's a transformation record."  The heart of that transformation, beating within Trouble and Love, is love. But it’s not the kind of love that's celebrated on pop charts. In those tunes, love is its own end; the story stops as the giddiness sets in, with no hint of what may follow. Gauthier knows better; she has the scars to prove it.  "For me, love has been a real challenge," she admits. "Attachment has been a challenge. This record is about losing an attachment I actually made. The loss of it was devastating because I hadn't fully attached before to anyone. The good news is that I can. The even better news is that I can, and I can lose, and live. Not only do I live, but I've got a strength that I never had before."  Trouble and Love would fall or rise on the question of whether it crystalizes Gauthier's experience and conveys it to those who want to feel it, as if the poetry of her lyric can mirror and illuminate what they too have gone through. To help make this happen, she invited a small group of singers and musicians into Nashville's Skaggs Place Studio, each one chosen because of his or her ability to find the heart of the song. No one was given a lead sheet or an advance demo or even headphones. The backup vocals were invented on the spot. The microphones were vintage, and the songs were cut live, to tape. Everyone stood together in the room, playing to what they heard in the lyric as well as from what was going on in the moment.  "I took away everything that musicians lean on to feel invulnerable," she explains.  All they had to work with was a brief rundown of each song from Gauthier in the control room, right before the tape rolled. "I wanted them to feel it in real time," she continues. "You don't want to sound real with songs like this. You want to be real. That’s what I strive for as a writer, and that's what we got in the playing."  Feeling their way through the process, these extraordinary participants -- guitarist Guthrie Trapp, keyboardist Jimmy Wallace, bassist Viktor Krauss, drummer Lynn Williams and singers Beth Nielsen Chapman, Ashley Cleveland and Darrell Scott, Siobhan Kennedy and The McCrary Sisters -- probed and then brought life to Gauthier's compositions. In their hands, and in her fearless vocals, the songs resonate like tolling bells.  We hear "a body's but a prison when the soul's a refugee" in Oh Soul. The last embers of affection flicker and die on When a Woman Goes Cold, (“Scorched earth cannot burn.”) "A million miles from our first kiss, how does love turn into this?" is just one of the bitter riddles posed in False From True. Irony colors the chorus of Worthy: "Worthy, worthy what a thing to claim. Worthy, worthy, ashes into flame."  This is deep and dangerous poetry, and Gauthier leads us through it with relentless candor. Yet tenderness is always near, enough to keep us engaged through the final track, "Another Train."  "I wrote that one in England during a long, long tour," she remembers. There was a sign at a station: There'll be another train at 14:02.' So I started working with 'another train.' The song evolved. It doesn't start the way it ends. It zigged and it zagged. I let it talk to me. It's so interesting, because when I saw 'another train,' boom, that whole story was in there -- but I had to go find it. I had to dig, like an archaeologist."  In the very last line of the song is the benedictory thought of the entire album. "Another Train" bathes all of what preceded it in a glimmer of hope. It a fantastically concise and powerful ending -- and entirely intentional--  “There’ll be another train.”
 "This album reflects a total human experience. Love, loss, and a life transformed." Gauthier sums up. "It's not a random collection of songs. This record is a story. It's about trust and faith and believing that there's a plan and a flow. And the flow is where the good stuff is because there's wisdom in the flow. At the core, we're all cut from the same cloth-- the same dreams, the same brokenness, the same desire for companionship and family and home. Yeah, we all have that. And if I don't go deep enough into that, it's a problem.  "There's no such thing as going too deep." Amen to that. 


The Lehigh Melismatics is Lehigh University's oldest co-ed a cappella group, founded in 2001 by Anita Green and Hayley Teich. Since then, the Melismatics have gained popularity across campus and among other collegiate a cappella groups.

The Melismatics don’t just hold fall and spring concerts; they help host the annual Lehigh A Cappella Invitational, perform on and off campus on behalf of the Lehigh community, compete in the International Competition for Collegiate A Cappella, and even perform at local schools as a guest group on occasion.

Over the years the Melismatics have had quite a few amazing experiences. Most recently, The Melismatics placed first in 2016 and 2017 in the ICCA mid-atlantic quarterfinals, and placed 4th at 2018 mid atlantic quarterfinals. The Melismatics have also won awards for best choreography and best arrangement in past competitions.

In 2004, the Melismatics released the first CD, entitled "Just What You Need." Another CD, "Top Shelf" was released the spring of 2010, and most recently, "Addicted" was released in Fall 2015. The Melismatics have also produced a music video, I Can Hear the Bells, featuring former Mels member Aliza Molgora.

MICHAEL (ELEWHALE) LYTLE (Composer) has a Master’s in Composition (electronic music) from the U. of Iowa and has been playing clarinet for 50 years. Well known as an Improvisor and called the “most radical of his generation” by Joachim Berendt, he invented a set of clarinet sonic modulation and performance born of not having access to an electronic music studio for a long period. A short list of his best collaborations have been with Will Parsons, Jon English, George Cartwright, David Moss, Karl Berger, Hans Burgener, Mark Howell, Nick Didkovsky, Gerry Hemingway and have included over 30 recordings.

A BIO

I learned fast. My piano teacher gave me all the method books at once, i.e. all the #1 books in the major methods, then all the #2 books, and so on, rapidly. She didn’t know what to do with me. I ate everything up. A five year old who loved all the gold and silver stars I could earn! Even then I enjoyed improvisation.

I'm from the small town of Springfield, Missouri (‘heart of the Ozarks’), in the 1950’s and early 60’s. Smallish, but we had a good music organization all the way through High School. (Basically the work of one very dedicated man yrs. ago. I'm quite grateful to him.) In 7th grade, I was ready to play an instrument, so I went to the music store. “I want to play the trumpet”, I said. “Well, young man, we already have a lot of trumpet players in Springfield. How about the flute?” “Ugh, that’s a sissy instrument isn’t it?” “Not really, but how about the clarinet, then?” “Ok.”

I had a great teacher in Roger Crosby. He was first chair in the Springfield Symphony, and he was a smart and good guy. Taught me to push with my diaphragm, open my sinuses; let the sound resonate around in my upper body. Why he was in Springfield, I’ll never know, but he was a composer also, of 12-tone music, as I discovered some years later. His scores were on the top shelf of his closet. Taught Jr. High School Music. Can you believe it? Of course he is gone now, sadly.

I continued improvising on piano in High School, kind of Debussy style. I loved getting carried away. When I got to the University of Wichita, (not a bad music school at all!) I went in wanting to be a conductor, a music historian, a composer and a clarinet player. However; being a professional musician was discouraged there. ‘It’s nice and all but not a way to make a living. You need to get an educational degree’. Well, I was stubborn, no ed degree for me. (Always the troublemaker.) I had a good composition teacher. Studied 12-tone music, Varese, some electronic music. (Stockhausen) I first smoked pot when the laws of Kansas were 12 years for 2 seeds found in your couch. Boy, that was careless, but it was wonderful. I could see Varese! His music moved beneath my eyelids in colored shapes. I loved dissonance and wild beats.

By the time I got to the University of Iowa, I was going to be a composer. Didn’t even tell people I played clarinet. Worked in the electronic music studio before it was a big deal. Spent hours there, improvising, layering. Analogue only those days, Moog mostly, several 2 track Ampex reel to reels. It was fun, but most of all, amazing! The sounds were fresh, unexplored, and impossible. Met George Crumb, John Cage. There was a new music group in residence by virtue of a Rockefeller grant. We went nuts. Started taking LSD and playing for hours in the group’s practice bunker (one of those old metal, semi-circle huts) till our knuckles bled. Shape sounds, color sounds, texture sounds! The air was full. I was the air.

I’m not recommending LSD, of course. Perhaps under controlled conditions, because it certainly has its down side. (‘Pandora’s Box’ is a real thing, you know.) But I think my generation had to ‘blow’ things open and LSD was an important tool. The world was so uptight around us, even more than it is now. "Real life" opened up. Imagine being in class trying to make up 2 credits in music history; my eyes kept going to the perforated acoustical tiles in the ceiling- you know, the ones with holes in them, and the holes kept descending toward me! I’d hear a perfect 5th in Solfege class and I’d say “wow, that’s incredibly beautiful! It beats in colors, it’s a texture!” Needless, to say, I didn’t make it far in “ear training”, but I graduated with good honors regardless (somehow)!

No jobs out there for ‘professionals’. Can't say I wasn't warned. No different now, really, for most of us. Especially a rebel who can’t keep his mouth shut. (Oh to be young again!) Anyway, any one could see the world order was going to fall apart. It’s based on imaginary ideas. For example, like we could own land. You can’t own land! Land belongs to itself! So I learned auto mechanics, gardening, joined a commune in New England, worked hard, drank and smoked way too much.

Went back to Iowa, made a fine record, “Iowa Ear Music”, with Bill Parsons and friends, got great reviews (5 stars!), co-founded a mixed media group, picked up the clarinet again and ended up at the Creative Music Studio in Woodstock. Karl Berger. Wonderful man. Stayed there two years. Went w/him to Europe for the first time. Incredible! One Sunday all the bells went off in Zurich at once. I swear I could have jumped out the window and swum in the air.

Moved to New York. Formed a trio with George Cartwright and David Moss. Wonderful music, clouds of sounds. Later good times with Hans Burgener and Swiss friends. Dr. Nerve w/ Nick Didkovsky. One loud rock ruckus.

The clarinet is a very special instrument, you know. Stopped pipe, cylindrical bore, sawtooth waves. After college and residence at a couple studios, missing electronic music, I devised extended techniques to make electronic-like sounds on the instrument. Playing and singing at the same time, teeth on the reed, various ways to play chords, etc. Jumbling all the effects together, I don’t really know what I’m doing anymore; I’ve done it so much. Now I mostly watch it play itself. Playing the three Bb's - soprano, bass (now w/the low C extension!), and contra-bass clarinet.

Sounds. (Have I mentioned I’m into sound?) Swirling, clouds and currents of sounds, usually with irregular rhythms, sometimes with pitches, mostly not, though I might break into a song fragment these days. Cage got me to thinking, a lot of us to thinking, that maybe composing was ego driven. I liked the idea of giving it up for improvisation. Course, maybe that is ego driven as well, or can be. What I like is trying to lose myself in the process. Let go of self too, you know. I think it can be done.

New York City, revised June, 2012


  All is One, You are God, and the answer is LOVE...

   Inside most people there is a feeling of being separate, Separated from everything, and they're not.You're part of absolutely every one, and everything. PLEASE,  believe me. You don't because you have this spot that you can't see past.
  You know not just how beautiful you all truly are...
  There's no need to hide, or to lie, and it's possible to talk to someone without any lies, no sarcasm, no deceptions, no exaggerations, or anything people use to confuse the truth... 

   it's become appalling clear, that your technology far surpasses your humanity...  Someday your humanity might actually surpass your technology... 

  I didn't just go someplace, not away, just out, but EVERYWHERE...


Dear Beloved Soul,
   Some prose exposing my innermost emotions. I give you my words on a wing -  

BOOK OF HOURS

MATINS

Faith, Hope, Love.

 Deliver me unto myself that I may finish fretting the hours in vain, looking for what's lacking always elsewhere and otherwise. Grant me that peace which whispers like the wind between the earth and sky, the hush like intervals of silence between questions, between the calls of crickets, the sorrows of the seasons forever flowing one into the next, swift and sure as grace. 
Bleach my bones and twine my hair. When I am gone feed my flesh to carrion bent toward their erasures of antiquity. But first grant me this: let one day the shadows lift, that enslaves my soul to sadness. 
Teach me the beauty of my emptiness. Fill the hollows of my ribs with wistful winds until they ring like drained crystal goblets rubbed into song.

LAUDS

 Gift me in my lovelorn gloaming, the paled ashes of remembered passion: bathe me in the glad warmth gathered like a song's unfolding thrill that I might rise like smoke lofting up. 
Cloak me in the darkness of uncontrollable desire. Sanctify my spirit in a hunger that devours pride and fills my veins with urgency. Twist those anguished flames around me until my every limb curses this ripe fruit. Oh fill the abandoned rooms where my losses gather to lament. No longer thin in my blood to drain color from my face for want. In the half-light of love grown lambent, I can almost see a way to save me from myself.

PRIME

 Hone my gaze to the riches of detail- fine as the fur on the belly of the bee or the vein's thin as breath lining of a forgotten iris, translucent as thought. Reward's anxious eyes and a hasty heart do not recognize. Toll all the bells and raise the blinds, open the shutters: let this feeling overflow and swell the room with light. Save me from the doubts that swarm like maggots feeding on a wound. Leave me not alone in despair, gnawed raw to the nakedness of my existence.

TERCE
 See me, as I am, in this world of aspirations and broken dreams. Let me be more, yet possess some beauty. Heal my impatient heart which burns within me like a cankar. Teach me not to be annoyed by my faults, which roll within my ears as loud as thunder. Help me to love the fragile and small, the damaged and forgotten without sorrow. Fill me with understanding as an oak tree fills with wind. Caress my compassion; let my consciousness shake down and cover those I love. Help me to laugh with so much feeling I shake the earth and tremble quiet pools with my joy. Multiply my delights till they surround me like an echo resounding in a chasm.

SEXT

 Speak my mind in the tales of tongues turning words into wonder and wile away my wasted effort sweeping aside the bitter beauty of my betrayal. Seed the soil with loneliness until no plant will rise and paint the bright land black that I may blend my hide against its ravaged contours and disappear. Let me not forget the afternoons full of leisure when I flush in blessings lolling in your swoon so abundant and light every breeze was the lifting of time's wing. 
Hide me in another season: Use my shame like a prism to refract the light into shards of color, blushing this deed and that, embellishing a thousand years, until the renaissance roars of my regret that only centuries can comfort.

NONE

 Grant me hope the measure of a myth and my spirit will rebound: this love will burnish the air as if etched in lightening and my hands will clap like thunder. For I have come so long without a sign. Into my path 
let fall moments in handfuls, ripe and random, a little grace the comfort of this gift. Bless the blooms and the upstart grasses, single stark born broken-ribbed unbearable. All hallow the stoops and leaky asylum cracked alleys filled with broken inhabitants and dreams. Thank all the nouns we cling to, until calm blankets us like snow.

VESPERS

 Fill the evening with whispers. Smooth the air with the waft of worship from behind my pale facade, for even anger falters when the whole gasp of sky is mauve and gold and all the windows proclaim aflame. Protect me from the undertow of failing light, the suck of self-sacrifice lifting the last starling from the field leaving nothing but crickets and the bleak embrace of black. Angels have I none nor hope enough to fill this length of day yet let my heart rush as one with the swell of oceans, arising and the bells dispersing evening like smoke in the thickening air.

COMPLINE

 Slake my longing this heavy thirsting heart with draughts of God until the familiar burn and bruise is cooled as if by marble met or deep in earth the damp of darkness leaching from my skin the lingering fever so I may sleep again. Still this fear more loyal than a lie, that I may wake without the crease of hard dreams pressed into my flesh or the trace of brine when I swallow empty glassfuls in every breath. 
A gentle stirring flutters, filling like vowels swelling in my mouth tentative kisses these unfinished prayers: Bless me, do not break my heart.

Synopsis -

 "I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections and the truth of the imagination". 
Cultivation of the soul might be as simple as listening to one's heart and examining the different moments of one's life. 
Perhaps enlightenment, isn't customarily found in the blinding bolt of lightning but rather in a series of tiny illuminations, none of which at the time seems important or interesting but collectively combine to lift the heart and widen the aperture through which we allow ourselves to view the infinite.

  A.'. A.'.



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