Hello from Richmond Virginia

Laura is pregnant and she’s carrying an old Canon MK4 Camera down a cobbled street in Church Hill. She says, “I’ll buy something and you grab us those seats on the purple couch”

I pull the heavy door open and the cafe is practically empty except for a couple of dudes. Perfect light, perfect zone for a photography shoot.

This guy is sitting at the antique shoe shine and Laura’s giving me those hilarious eyes. I tell him to sit still and just be there while we take pictures if he doesn’t mind. He folds his fingers over his mouth and reads while I strike various poses next to him.

We take shots, flauntingly, laughingly, all over the cafe. I’m hungry and I purchase a lil muffin even though I probably shouldn’t since I don’t have the dough (no pun intended).

Laura’s always wearing these dresses and skirts that make her look like she’s from the 1800’s, and she’s beautiful. People can’t help turn their heads, and I see eyes land on the red lips, the belly and the hips and the vision of us in full flame, laughing and galloping like thieves.

I’m being given this artists life over and over again, until I can show myself I’ve truly chosen it. Through the thicks and thins, in sickness and health.

When I get back to the house my guitar glitters in the corner, her curves and strings call me easily. I sit in front of her and the tears come continuously. I hug her, I touch her, I sing to her. I remember her. I thank her for standing by me through it all.

My life is music

Music is my life

It’s easy, it’s true