I went to a little island with my sister called Arran. There was a castle there called Brodick. We walked in the garden. I was captured by flowers and made to look like a wisened pinup. After a narrow escape, I found my way to pine cone temple. I tried to use the light of my soul and intelligence to reveal its splendor, and was somehow humbled and emboldened by my shy incandescence in the face of the ancient craft hut.
They say it was built for the women who lived at the castle, so they might have a spot for a moments respite in the face of what seems to have been a veritable conveyor belt of fresh venison.
If your invited to the feast, go to the feast.
In other news, I'll be playing a little show in Brooklyn, New York on the 21st of June at a spot called the Galapagos. I'll be debuting some new songs, and exploring some old ones. There may even be some timely guests, and a spot of freaking out. If you will be there, or know anyone who will be, let'em know. I'd be tickled.
Love,
Frank.
1 comment:
looks like the scots enter the center with the best of them
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