"I took care of my horses, walked back to the house along the road where so few cars were passing that you always had time
to wonder where they were going. I kept staring into the forest. Stepping in through the door, Bob Dylan gave me a deep look into my eyes, Cat Power kissed my forehead and Tom Waits started a tornado with a fork and his melodies in my kitchen. With a welcome like this, you never knew where you were going to end up. Suddenly I found myself waking up in cities, in clay, in country homes, in tiny european villages, but most often; in the arms of a slightly out-of-tune piano. Thank you."