Live February 27, 2019.

Music for her plants in the garden.

The right space, the right glance, always leads to a dance.

The pre-tape echo warble version of "A dance, my dear, in the garden of the damned" (see https://soundcloud.com/rfurtkamp/a-dance-my-dear-in-the-garden-of-the-damned ) - this split off from the analog out of box mastering run and tape and Time Bender buggery.

The spirit voices, alive in the warble and fade, as the hall has its say.

There was a distance in her eyes, a reflection of mine.

And a space that could not be distinguished between.

Through the waking of the morning, let there be naught but what is in your summonings, in your invocations, in your curses.

What there is, is. There is naught else.

Abide by this, in the hour of darkness.

Follow through in the vanity of the night.

There is nothing but simple deaths fading on the misplaced winds. You who know so much and are a master of this realm, what say you now?

There is a light, distant and as if behind glass.

And in a blink of one eye, it is free.

So free that the old songs come unbidden to my lips, and she is there to caress the moment in time.

Welcome home, dark filtered six-stage hellion of old.

--

The last piece of my classic era gear has found me once again, the terrifying 1/4" power jack 18v monster, chewy, vocal, alive, and dark.

Without meaning to, an invocation of those days came forth as well.

I have not played this thing for public consumption in ....as long as it has been gone.

Live February 9, 2019.

It has been nearly as long as I can remember, but she has never led me astray.

Whether those clouds are tornadoes, inclement weather, the worst storms hitting the mountain passes, or a nuclear kiss, I love her all the same.

The star called wormwood, the stone of the trinity: these are her calling cards shaking up the aethyr this night.

Set the table, seven by seven - but with only five.

It is complete in all.