Dear James

Dear James,

When you go down on America this Spring, at one of the three shows in, Vancouver, Seattle, Portland, I hope you consider walking the ghost, playing some rarities. Undertaking the thought of playing dead, playing some b-sides, beats and other rhythms not usually heard or seen. Constructing Gaudi buildings- architectures of fire and sun. Of harmonies, both and discordant and wise. With sounds and moods, crossing the borders of the deaf and the blind. I ask this not as a demand, but rather as a request. I ask because you're my hero not because I just want to shoot my mouth off. I want to go home feeling like I am on top of the world. That I've been skin diving with a sweet señorita who can always see my soul when she looks into my eyes. I know what I am here for as I am just an honest joe who at times thinks he is some English Beefcake, and yet in truth, I am simply not so strong as I look. Thus, I drink from your watering hole and fill myself, my life up with the green peace of serenity. With chaos and delight. Living a life of love in all these moments of music and truth. And at the end of the shows, I will leave my things by the door, but keep the memories with me, as I dive into the fall with the knowledge, with the feeling, the embodiment of all sensations that it is always a pleasure to meet all of you.