Bura9

Well, my sewing skills are limited to buttons. My hair-cutting is fine as long as I’m going Marine. Cooking is fine, but certainly not to the levels of restaurants I slobber over. So building my own casket seems a possible enough enterprise. All that thinking out of the box amounts to nothing when you need a box to leave this world. Never wnated to shell out money for a custom made suit, so why not spend some money and some time on custom-fitting my departure capsule? Shades of Moby-Dick, eh?

Somewhere between Charles Musselwhite and Toots Thielman, with touches of the sounds of Branford Marsalis’ tenor and Jimmy Smith’s B-3 sonorousness. When the batteries are dead or no electric is available, it’d be great to reach back in one’s pocket and blow some notes. No need for performance; I’d much prefer being the accompaniest, playing to my heart’s content.

The rugged coast, the rugged language, the simple next to the sublime. The wealth and the poverty. The coastline, the 1,220+ islands, the warm water, the chilly night wind. The all-night parties. The puffed-up chesty men and the “shminka” women parading around, roosters all. The quiet of the lapping waters and the yelling at the bars over football games. Such a small country, such a great diversity