Rather Ashes Than Dust 

“I would rather be ashes than dust!

So would I, if those were the only two choices.  But they’re not.

“I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.”

Yep.  With you on that.

“I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.”

There ain’t nuthin’ wrong with planets, Jack.  Try seeing how long you can get along without one; let me know how that goes.

“The function of man is to live, not to

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Mark Lewis, Storyteller 

Mark has passed, they tell me. 

And yet I cannot mourn him.  I can be sad for myself, selfish as that seems, but not for him.  Sad because I won’t be able to shake his hand when next I’m in California, or see that twinkle in his eyes, that nod when he touched the side of his nose as if to say, “you and I – we get it.”

But not sad for him.  We have lost something; he has not.  As joyous a man as he was on this side, his happiest moments here are as nothing to the joy of where he is now.  And while I can’t…

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The Bard and the Bones Band 

I looked down the street I could see the crowd parting the way they always do when the skeletons arrive. Yes; they were coming. But this time they would not have it all their own way. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I could tell you it was a hot, dry, dusty day or I could just tell you that it was an average day at the Renaissance Pleasure Faire in Agoura, California in the mid 1980’s.

Siamsa  - my main harp at the time and the oldest harp I still have - and I were seated by the side of the road, playing Celtic harp…

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