From my window last night the snow was an illuminated pink haze. I spent the evening baking and listening to Nina Simone. The cars on the bridge were passing by more and more slowly, the white cake on their roofs growing higher and higher . . .
On Monday, Laura Nyro showed up in my dream. I was on a college campus interviewing her. She was sitting at the piano and seemed bashful. Somehow I knew she wasn't going to live much longer. I can still remember the dream image, but I can't remember what she said.
Tuesday: I'm at Matt Umanov's buying cables and checking out amps. I look up and there's a framed photo of Laura Nyro on the wall.
Wednesday: I'm having lunch with Carol and she quotes from Laura Nyro. (Not to mention recites Joni Mitchell. At length. From Hejira.)
Now I'm listening to "Save the Country," and it's giving me chills.
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